


Hux's Flashbacks

by Bipolar_Armitage_Hux



Series: Bastards and Broken Things [5]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Agender Hux, Alcoholic Kylo, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sex Worker, Angst, Autistic Hux, Autistic Kylo Ren, Bulimic Hux, Child Abuse, Eating Disorder Hux, Emetophobia, Fluff, Genital Mutilation, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intersex Hux, M/M, Nightmares, PTSD Hux, Parent/Child Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Harm, Slurs, Trans Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 22:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8031892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bipolar_Armitage_Hux/pseuds/Bipolar_Armitage_Hux
Summary: A Collection of Hux's PTSD Flashbacks





	1. Hux Realises Something Crucial

**Author's Note:**

> Strongly references From Armitage to Hux which will make this make a lot more sense.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This particular flashback involves him realising something rather... interesting about his father.

The day after Hux had sex with Kylo for the first time was a strange one. It's not that he didn't enjoy it because he really did. Not even just for the reasons that Phasma had originally sent him for. He loved the act itself, having Kylo's finger tips against his touch starved body, the way Kylo took care of him afterwards - it was all better than he could've hope. Despite that however, even though his heart jumped when Kylo asked for his number, even though he was seeing him again next week... There was still this part of Hux that didn't respond to Kylo's text, that felt this pit of guilt in his stomach, and that had anxiety that was higher than they had been when he had left home. It didn't seem fair, he kept thinking. He'd actually been happy, someone treated him with a sort of kindness he'd never really experienced before and yet his mind was still determined to try and beat him down. He knew it was irrational but he felt like because he had actually enjoyed sex with Kylo that meant everything that had happened to him before was okay. He felt like because he had enjoyed - no, loved - having sex with someone, because he craved it again, that must have made what his father did to him okay.

 

Whenever he tried to think about what happened - Kylo making him bark like a dog before he'd let him suck him off, Hux being made to kiss Kylo's feet, the feeling of Kylo's stomach against his back whilst he held him into place whilst he fucked him, Kylo's lips against the bits of skin where the ribs still poked out, Kylo's breath in his ear... All of them felt so spectacular on their own and when he was in the moment, there none of this existed. Now however, there wasn't a thin, beautiful man to keep him safe. He had nothing to stop the memories coming back and when he did there was that fucking voice in his head.  _So, if you enjoy being humiliated... why did it matter when father did it?,_ _if you were having so much fun being fucked by Kylo - why did father's cock in your arse turn you into such a crybaby?_ and  _Kylo probably didn't even enjoy it you know - whore's are paid to act like that_ were the soundtrack to his day. It didn't help that their was just one small thing that was particularly bothering Hux that he couldn't push past. That day when he was seventeen, and he'd overheard his father talking to a woman (who he later learned to be Phasma). What they talked about later, way after Hux had retreated away to his room like a dog licking his wounds, when he had been called down for dinner. The memory stuck in his mind because of how strange it was.   
  
He was lying on his bed, his crotch, ribs, head and mind in agony, with some music on quietly on his headphones. Normally he kept his clunky, walkman hidden in the bottom of the wardrobe with his father's military jacket and engineering textbooks but this time he was lying on his bed blaring the music into his hears and he didn't bother to even try and hide what he was doing in case his father walked in. He had the old tape player on his chest, he tried to focus on the music - the lyrics, the chords on the guitar, the rhythm of the drums - all of it so that he didn't have to pay attention to anything that had just happened. Did it make him feel better? In a way. No. Not really. Sort of? He didn't feel like anything. He felt like he'd fallen into the void, into a realm of non-existence, there was nothing but music. That was until, there was a bang at the door which made him jump, rip the headphones out of the socket and knock the walkman onto the floor and ejecting the tape. He hurriedly picked it up and threw it under his bed as he shouted "just a second" at the door. He knew it was one of the servants who was likely to be nicer to him - his father would've just walked in. "Come in!" He called when any incriminating objects were hidden from sight. He was right, it was one of the servants. Hux raised his eyebrows because he hadn't seen her before - she was small, thin and timid looking. After a moment he realised she must have been the daughter of someone who was just helping out. The fact that her little mouth was left hanging open in nervousness and that she clearly had no idea what to do told him this.   
  
"Can I help you?" He said kindly, voice hoarse from lack of use and crying. He cleared his throat just before she answered.   
  
"I-I'm sorry, sir," she squeaked. "Your father- Master Hux, he wants you down stairs for dinner, Young Master!" Hux stood up gingerly, still feeling pain when he walked, and ran his fingers through his hair and he looked her with narrowed eyes.   
  
"You- must be mistaken," he said pathetically, more than a little confused. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling that he shouldn't be telling a child about how his father starved him.   
  
"No, sir!" The girl continued, Hux noted that he'd never heard someone squeak insistently before. "He definitely asked mama to go get his son!" Ah, so she was the child of a servant, he thought. He shrugged in defeat.   
  
"Okay, I'll be down in a minute," he responded. The girl curtsied and ran out of the door, letting it bang behind her. Hux actually smiled a little sadly. Half of the people who interacted with him didn't see him as human because of his father, the other half were similar but it was because of his father's wealth. This child was clearly in the latter but more out of misplaced awe than disgust. Hux wondered if she knew about how his father treated him - sure, all of the servants knew but he had no idea what they said to their families. He decided he didn't want to think about that and limped out of his room and into their ostentatious dining room where Hux was invited to eat, which surprised him since he assumed the beating earlier had resulted in him being denied food that night. As soon as he walked into the dining room - something else surprising happened. His father walked up to him and gave him a one-armed hug, Hux stiffened at his touch. His father wasn't the affectionate type.   
  
"Armitage!" He said gesturing to the seat opposite his. "The cook has made us a fine meal today I believe." Hux pulled out his seat, a little clumsily but managed to disguise it from his father. The man became enraged at the slightest hint of gracelessness. Hux sat down, his blue eyes flitting through the room. He couldn't remember the last time he had been here - the few times he was allowed to eat, he was shoved in the kitchens to be given leftovers by the new probably infuriated cook. Hux remember the cook from before - she had laughter lines and curly dark hair, as well as soft blue eyes that smiled whenever they saw him. She had disappeared a few years before and he didn't know why, bitterly Hux had assumed as a child that it must have been because he liked her. He wanted to say that as he grew older he'd changed his mind but that wasn't true.  
  
When Hux sat there he felt his father's eyes, a darker blue than his own, burning into him. He could feel him watching every single movement, when his hands shook nervously he could feel the sneer, when he twitched slightly he could feel the man rolling his eyes.   
  
"So," his father said, slamming the table to make Hux jump. The smirk he saw when he looked up confirmed that. "I had a fantastic afternoon, I met this wonderful new whore- ah, Armitage-" Hux looked up suddenly. "If you don't look at me whilst I'm talking to you you won't get any dinner." Hux's eyes flitted to his father's face, and his nose. "In my eyes, look me in the eye Armitage," his father growled. Hux tried, he really did. He stared at his father's face and tried to look at his eyes for a second and he couldn't take it. They started to water through sheer concentration. "Son," his father began again, mockingly. "I want you to look me in the eyes whilst I tell you about how I fucked this pretty little whore. He was a boy, a bit younger than you, with long dark hair, a beautiful bone structure and soft skin. He belongs to a charming woman I met today, one who's interested in taking you off of my hands.  
  
"And I ruined his pretty little face, burned him whilst I fucked him and beat him until he bled and screamed." Hux swallowed, he felt this bizarre sense of jealousy and disgust. He felt his father stand up, walk around the table and grabbed his son by his throat and pulled him closer to him. "That's right, I have found a new whore. He's much prettier and younger than you. He's about thirteen or fourteen and he doesn't cry when I rape him. Like you still do after how many years? Seven. Oh I remember the way you sniveled the first time," Brendol said softly was he stroked Hux's face. "Of course, I will still want my scrawny, greasy, disgusting little maggot to fuck on occasion. But don't worry, you're not ... desirable to me any more. Not that you ever were really, no desirable isn't the word. Easy. That's it, or weak. It's so easy to hold you down whilst I ram my cock into your throat until you throw up, or pummel my arsehole with my cock until you cry and beg for me to stop. Now, this boy, if he wasn't paid for it - he'd be able to fight me. Not like you, you'd never be able to do that. Would you, you disgusting little thing?" Brendol let go of him and walked back to his chair. Hux sat there, nauseous and filled with anxiety. His father had actually managed to make him feel worthless because he didn't want to rape him any more, he actually managed to make Hux  _jealous_. He felt abandoned, like the only form of care he actually got with his father had disappeared and he knew it was absurd. He should be rejoicing, that his father had found a new pet to torture but instead he found himself hating the whore... When what he should have been doing was pitying him.   
  
Hux was still shaking and pale when the cook came to place what looked like a delicious feat in front of him. There was roast chicken, potatoes, gravy and so much more, all of which made Hux even more nauseous. He hated his father more in that moment. He knew full well Hux hadn't eaten properly in a long time and now he does this to him before offering up the perfect meal.   
  
"Go on, son," Brendol said with a grin. "Eat up, you must be hungry," he finished with mock concern. Hux found himself looking up at his father with utter contempt but the pain through out his body made him stay put, be quiet, don't start an argument. Hux took his fork and stabbed into a potato, and he repressed a retch. He pictured his father fucking and hurting this whore he'd mentioned, he pictured all the times his father had done it to him. He forced the food into his mouth. After a few bites he tried to feign being full.   
  
"Father, I really - this is wonderful but I-" Hux tried, as politely as he could. Unfortunately, his father saw right through him.   
  
"Eat it," Brendol replied after taking a big bite if chicken, gulping and delicately taking the grease off of his chin with a napkin. Hux bit the inside of his lip and began shovelling food into his mouth. So quickly he couldn't even taste it, it all mushed together into a tasteless clump as the nauseous in his stomach had gotten worse with every bite. Eventually Hux ate the last spoonful and sat staring at his now empty plate. He considered an act of defiance that he'd managed to eat the whole thing without throwing up onto the plate like his father had intended. Fuck you, Brendol, he thought. I guess I'm not as weak-willed as you say, huh? He said which almost managed to make him smile. Afterwards his stomach felt like it was rotting from the inside and he was sure his skin was tinged green to the point where his father must have noticed. Every part of his body told him to throw up but he managed to fight it. Thanks to him fucking my mouth until I throw up so much most likely, he thought bitterly.   
  
"Thank you for dinner father, if I may be excused," he said with a respectful tone that still managed to be filled with hatred. His father nodded and Hux walked out of the room and as soon as the door shut behind him he doubled up and his hand forced his mouth shut instantly. He stumbled up the stairs, and to the bathroom on the first floor, he locked the door behind him and he started throwing up before he could get anywhere near the toilet basin. He eventually managed to, he leaned over it still retching causing him a burning sensation in his throat and pain in his stomach. He knew full well his father knew he was in here and what he was doing... But it felt like a small victory that it didn't happen in front of the man. Eventually, he managed to stop, breathless and covered in spit and vomit. He fell back against the white wall, sitting on the light blue tiled floor with his head leaning backwards. Hux thinks it was around then that he thought that being sold off might not be so bad after all.   
  
It was this Hux was thinking of and it was this that was bothering him. Not because of the horrific display of abuse, he was desensitised to that. His issue was with how his father had described the whore. He hadn't realised when he had met Kylo the over night but now that he thought about it... Kylo was a little younger than him. Maybe he was thirteen or fourteen Hux was seventeen. He thought about Kylo's soft, waved long black hair and his delicate cheekbones, he remembered the feeling of his soft pale skin against his back. A young man, with long black hair, and wonderful bone structure was that - was that - was his father's whore...  _Kylo_?! 


	2. A Nightmarish Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux had a mutated flashback in the form of a nightmare which scares him quite a lot and makes him both want to see Kylo and not see the man ever again.

Hux's eyes shot open suddenly as he stared at his pale, stained ceiling and his heavy breathing and heartbeat filled his ears. He sat up suddenly, his bedding twisted around his legs. It was dark but the street lights outside shone some light into his room through the crack in the curtains. He quickly looked around - nothing but darkness and long shadows. He sighed heavily with relief, he was a little nervous but he was assured that no one was in his room and it was just a dream. He shoved the bedding off of him and swung his legs round, momentarily disturbing his cat who had curled up at the end of the bed but she quickly stretched and went back to sleep. Lucky thing, he thought before rubbing his eyes and glancing at his clunky alarm clock. It was 2.30am, he groaned in frustration. He knew his body well enough and the anxiety had awoken him to the point where he wasn't sure when he'd get back to sleep. He shifted uncomfortably as he felt Kylo's t-shirt stick to his back with sweat. He pulled it off and then realised why he had worn it in the first place - he ran his fingers down the long, thick scar from his collarbone to his bottom rib and the last night's nightmare flashed in his mind again. He had worn Kylo's t-shirt to sleep last night to cover it, and because the man's smell was all over it.  
  
If he closed his eyes he could almost feel his arms wrapped around him. Now however, he just felt overheated and uncomfortable. He stood up and stretched, before standing up and walking towards the window. He pulled the curtain back slightly and opened the window, shivering suddenly as the cold air from outside rushed in. He allowed himself to stay there for a second, looking down at the parked cars, street lights and closed-up shops from his third floor apartment before pulling the curtain back. Still allowing the breeze through his room but not quite as abruptly. He turned around and laid back down on his bed, on top of his bedding and he stared up at his ceiling. Flashbacks and depressive episodes at night were the worst. During the day he could at least do something - get hold of Kylo, go for a walk, anything. Right now all he had was his own thoughts, he momentarily debated texting Kylo anyway. It was possible he was awake, his job usually meant he was up late anyway. Hux rolled over his bed, disturbing the cat again which 'meroow'ed quite loudly before rolling onto her back and going back to sleep again. He picked up his phone that laid on his bedside table like it always did. He went to his contacts and opened a message to be sent to one of his three contacts in his phone, Kylo Ren.   
  
He held it in his hand for a good minute or so, unsure as to what he could say. Saying "I had a nightmare" made him feel like a small child, he was bad at text messaging. He'd only really discovered the phenomenon in the last few years and Kylo was the only person he text about things that weren't work related. Phasma's texts were much easier: "okay", "on my way", "yes", "no", etc. All of them being things that didn't require any thought at all. The only other contact in his phone was someone he had never contacted. He'd actually talked to Kylo over text quite a lot of times before but he still couldn't get the hang of it. In the end he settled for a "bad night, you awake?" and sent it. It didn't matter, he didn't expect a response anyway. He quickly searched through his message history with Kylo and he noticed his last message was reminding him to eat. He never responded to that. It did however, make his stomach rumble expectantly when he'd realised he hadn't eaten in over a day. The last words he had heard from Kylo were stuck in his mind "have you eaten today? eat something. you're allowed to now". Hux groaned thinking about this as he stood up and stumbled out of his bedroom and into his joint living room and kitchen, wincing as he switched the light on.  
  
He knew Kylo meant well but.... He infuriated him sometimes.  _Eat something. You're allowed to now._ Am I Kylo? Really? He thought bitterly. The problem was, as ridiculous as it sounded, he didn't know how to. He stood in his kitchen and as much as he craved for a proper meal he didn't know how to cook. No one had ever taught him how. He settled with making some dry toast - he was feeling nauseous anyway so he wouldn't be able to keep a real meal down. The only actual food he ever got was fast food every now and then, the rest was snacks and toast. He was fairly certain the only reason he hadn't died of malnutrition was because he had so many vitamin pills once a day. He had tried to explain once to Kylo that he couldn't cook, but he hadn't worded it very well. It sounded like he was just bad at it and he didn't feel like opening up about his childhood at that point. Although, in Kylo's defense, you do expect someone who can use most guns rather well to be able to operate an oven. 

  
Hux jumped by the sudden sound as he heard his phone vibrate against the kitchen counter. He picked it up to see Kylo had text him back and he stared at his words for longer than it should have taken to process them. Now that Kylo had text back, he actually regretted the decision but if he were to leave it now... He'd probably end up with a frantic, worried Kylo. He stared at the message which just proclaimed "Yes. What's up?" in small black writing. "I had a nightmare" he typed back staring at it. It didn't feel like enough but then he didn't know what else to say. He sent the text and put his phone down, grabbed a plate for his toast, poured a glass of coke and walked over to his sofa to switch on his television. He flicked through it before settling on a movie channel showing some awful film that he didn't recognise. He just wanted it for background noise. Kylo text back quickly and he was prepared for the sudden noise this time. "Fuck, are you okay? Want to talk about it?" Kylo had written. Hux sighed, of course he wasn't. And there was far too much that had happened for him to sum it up in a text message. Whenever he so much as blinked he saw snippets of it again. Flashbacks he was used to and he could deal with but these were different - there was something particularly jarring about seeing the man you love replace your abuser and rapist. He couldn't exactly  _tell_ Kylo that. He settled with just 'Not really, can I see you tomorrow?' and sure enough, he almost instantly got a reply telling him to come to the club tomorrow night. He put his phone down on his pine but painted black coffee table, and laid put his legs on the table, watching the terrible, gory movie with his eyes barely open.   
  
He never actually managed to fall asleep, he just rested their in disassociative limbo for hours. He only moved to change the channel to another movie after the current channel stopped showing anything, watched another movie - a surreal children's cartoon thing that he'd never heard of, and finally to a 24 hour news channel. He hated watching the news because his father and his friends were so often on it but thankfully when he got to it this time, nothing like that appeared. He watched the sun rise and although he did see the attraction to them, there was something depressing about watching them when you're aching from not having slept and last night's nightmare is still fresh in your mind. As much as he tried to tell himself that it's not  _real_ and Kylo would never do any of that to him, it didn't help. He still felt the mixture of Kylo's stomach against his back, something that usually comforted him and made his thighs twitch, and his father's disgusting grunting. He felt Kylo pulling on his hair - something that usually made his cock twitch - and he thought of his father slamming his head into the ground. He felt like his mind was trying to torture him further and he couldn't help feeling angry at Kylo. He knew it was irrational - it was in his subconscious, it wasn't Kylo's fault that one of his clients was Hux's father, and it definitely wasn't Kylo's fault that any of this had happened to Hux. None of that tamed the anger inside of him, he just had to hope that when he saw Kylo and realised how safe he was there it would change.   
  
Hux was thankful he didn't have a job that day - and that Phasma didn't ring him to tell him something had come up - because he was so exhausted he struggled to move around, feed the cat, get a shower, get changed and take his medication (anti-anxiety and anti-psychotic medication, Phasma had insisted fairly early on in his hitman career. She had assured him therapy was pointless and wouldn't help, but she could get the medication he'd get through therapy for him.) He ended up back on the sofa, his feet hanging off of the end, the cat curled up between his legs, and watching day time television. His soft red t-shirt comforted him somewhat - he wasn't sure why the material was so nice to touch, it just was. He combined them with his dark grey, slim fit trousers so he felt comfortable and somewhat smart. Maybe it would trick his brain into thinking he actually had worked today, not that he would have worn this. Phasma liked her hitmen to have an air of uniformity to them, and her strictness of that depended on their importance. Hux was fairly high, and only wasn't higher because of his age so he tended to kill people in an entirely black suit without a tie and a long black trench-coat. It made him uneasy since he felt like he looked like a soldier, or specifically his father but... He suspected that only helped him. Thinking about it caused the memory of Kylo seeing him dressed that way for the first time and Hux laughed to himself and smile. Kylo thought he looked very  _attractive_. In fact he spent a long time trying to convince him to wear the suit whilst he fucked him but since when they were together things tended to get messy and he didn't have  _that_ many suits he didn't think it was a good idea. The part he didn't tell Kylo is that the suit and trench-coat felt a little like a mask to him, when he put it on it felt like no one could see him and he became capable of things he wouldn't normally be able to do. Not as the Hux Kylo brought out anyway. He didn't want to be the monster when he didn't need to be, he wanted the both of them to feel safe and he really did not want Kylo to see that side of him. Ugh, fucking hell Kylo, he thought suddenly, shutting his eyes and covering his ears like it would be able to block out the thoughts some how. When the didn't work his arms dropped helplessly by his sides and he let out a sigh. He was beginning to regret texting him and was starting to wish he wasn't going to the club.   
  
It wasn't that he didn't  _want_ to see him, because he did. He really did. He just rather he could go see him before he found out that one of Kylo's clients was his father. He wish he could see the man he loved before he found out how his father hurt him. And most of all he wish he could see him before he had the horrendous dream which caused him to not be able to think of Kylo without being able to think of the worst things that had ever happened to him. On top of that, he could feel his intrusive paranoid thoughts getting out of control about it:  _What if father is setting you up? What if he set up you sleeping with Kylo and told him to act like he was falling for you_ ,  _he's just a whore - what did you expect? Are you so naive you thought you might mean something to him_ ,  _it's not like he could possibly really want someone like you anyway_  and finally, _you disgusting pathetic thing, even if he did once you tell him about your nightmare he's going to hate you._ No, he kept telling himself, none of those things are possible or true. Kylo loves me, he forced himself to think over and over again.  _But_ he heard the familiar voice say, the one that reminded him of his father.  _If he loved you, why didn't he tell you?_ Hux didn't have an answer to that one. What didn't help is the irrational jealousy of Kylo was coming back, the idea that he had taken Hux's place as his father's 'favourite' that bothered him. Although, he thought dully, can't blame the man.  _He is much better looking than you, wouldn't you want to rape him, Armitage?_ The familiar voice taunted. At this Hux actually growled at loud, grabbing the nearest cushion and punching it as he did so.   
  
"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up," he shouted at himself, the only thing worse than imagining Kylo doing horrible things to him, was him imagining doing the same things to Kylo. He ended up curled up in a ball on the sofa with the dark grey with silver patterns cushion pressed against his stomach. He was considering texting Kylo and telling him he couldn't go to see him tonight but the feeling of loneliness and touch starvation was so crippling he wasn't sure whether he could even do that. He found himself momentarily despising his love, for reasons he knew were ridiculous. Before he met Kylo he could be alone and be just fine, he didn't need his touch, he didn't feel his emotions and he was fine. That's when he let a humourless laugh at himself. No you weren't, he thought. You were messed up, he's healing you and you know it. Which he did, he didn't like it but it was true. The other problem of course was that he couldn't heal Kylo, he felt selfish making everything about him when Kylo was in hell too. He wished he could help them both.  _Which you will be able to do_ , A Familiar Voice soothed.  _Once you take over the mob._ Hux smiled at himself, it was one of the rare times his mind told him something reassuring. He felt his eyes light up and to anyone else he might have looked a little bit manic. It was just the idea of taking Phasma's place was a very, very good one. Although, Hux isn't entirely aware of how much his father is involved with the business. That might have changed his mind a little bit. 


	3. Hux Takes Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux asks Kylo to come with him on a particularly terrifying doctor's visit... Which goes a lot better than he originally thought it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost entirely about Hux's experience with being intersex and how he has been treated by doctor's because of it. There's a lot of intersex-angst here on my part. Note: Kylo asks Hux an invasive question about his genitals and it's allowed because Kylo is Hux's boyfriend. Don't ask an intersex person a question like that. It's creepy and weird. Hopefully I made that clear and is obvious but... You never know.

Hux and Kylo were curled up on the large bed in the club, the bed was made with soft golden sheets and since there wasn't a television in the room, Hux had brought over his laptop which was balanced at the end of the bed. They sat and watched one of the many films Hux had download specially whilst he sat with his back against the headboard and Kylo in between his legs, Hux absentmindedly played with Kylo's hair, sliding his fingers between the thick black strands and smiled as he felt the weight of it against his hands. He loved Kylo's hair- it was so long, thick and soft. It was the kind of rich black which feels as if it's full rather than empty. And the other loved having his hair played with. He was so used to people grabbing and pulling on it to hurt him that having Hux's thin fingers twist into it gently, lovingly, and stroking it like it was something precious felt a little strange. In a good way. It was was one of the moments with Hux he felt the most loved and he didn't want it to end. They sat there together in intimate silence for a while, when suddenly Hux spoke and from his strained voice, Kylo knew he had been figuring out how to word whatever he was going to say for a while.   
  
"Are you going to be busy Friday? Morning? About 10 o'clock?" Hux asked, stammering a little. From Kylo's position he could hear feel his pulse quickening through his shins as well as feeling his fingers twitching against his hair. Kylo furrowed his brow in the direction of the laptop, whatever Hux wanted to say worried and although Hux tend to get anxious about small things, Kylo still felt a little nervous about this conversation.   
  
"No, I don't start work until the late afternoon, why?" Kylo said, still focusing on the film or at least trying to.   
  
"I have a-uh appointment, with a surgeon-well doctor- or a type of doctor-" Hux said awkwardly, thankful that Kylo wasn't look at him so he couldn't see his face reddening. Unfortunately he couldn't do anything about the stammering but it was something. Of course, at that point, the man turned around from between his legs and looked at him with curious worry.   
  
"Why- Hux, why are you seeing a doctor on Friday?"   
  
"It's- it's nothing serious," Hux replied, instantly hating himself for having to make everything so difficult. "I just- you know when I was a child I had... A lot of surgery," Hux added, silently begging himself that Kylo would catch on to what he meant. "Every now and then I have to have a uh- check-up and I've been putting this one off for quite a while. I just thought it'd be easier if I had someone there, I haven't before," Hux finished finally. Thankfully, Kylo smiled understandingly and reached out his hand to gently take Hux's and squeeze it reassuringly.   
  
"Of course I can," Kylo replied to Hux's surprise. He threw himself forward enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around Kylo's chest and burying his head into the other's shoulder.   
  
"Thank you," he said, his words slightly muffled. Kylo couldn't help but let out a laugh at Hux's reaction. Suddenly he let go and leaned against the headboard, he looked at Kylo in shocked happiness. He wasn't sure what answer he was expecting but that wasn't it.   
  
"It's fine, what has no one ever gone with you before?" Kylo asked and Hux's fallen face told him his answer. "Wait but didn't you first have surgery when you were _six_?" Kylo continued in horrified confusion.  
  
"Well, technically it was when I was a baby-"  
  
"Hux."  
  
"I mean, no. Well, sort of. I used to have a servant take me to the hospital and pick me up afterwards."   
  
"But no one in the waiting room? No one to hold your hand during? You were six years old and left on your own to deal with a traumatic surgery?" Kylo pressed, feeling like he should have stopped but couldn't help himself.  
  
"I-" Hux started before falling silent. He'd never really thought about it before but... Kylo had a point. He more than had a point, he was right. That didn't mean Hux wanted to talk or hear about it of course. "My father did pay for them-"   
  
"So, he paid for surgeries to mutilate you and try to make your  _normal_ \- causing you to have a life time of discomfort and doctors appointments and... He didn't even bother to go with you to them?" Kylo continued, saying all of this before thinking it through and instantly regretting it. As soon as he had finished Hux had started squirming uncomfortable and his hands were shaking, he looked like he opened his mouth to speak but stopped proceeding to let out a sharp, short whine. He started wringing his hands. You fucking idiot, Kylo thought instantly. Why did you have to do that? Why couldn't you just let it go? "I'm - I'm sorry, Hux I shouldn't have said that." Kylo finished.   
  
"N-No, it's- it's fine," Hux stammered, his eyes stinging. He was more focused on trying to stay where he was and not listen to his mind that was showing him when he was surrounded by doctors, lying on a cot by himself, his legs spread open and he was being poked at and inspected. The stitches digging into him afterwards that came loose so easily. The months of recovery and pain. Memories of his father's shouting were distorted and taunting him.   
  
"Hey, hey, hey," Kylo crooned, pushing himself up to Hux and stroking the side of his face with his thumb and index finger. "It's okay, I'm here, Hux, where are you?"   
  
"I'm- I'm in your room," Hux said breathlessly. "I'm at the club, i'm in your room."   
  
"And who am I?"   
  
"Kylo, you're Kylo."   
  
"That's right," Kylo continued softly gently putting his arm around Hux's shoulder's, stroking his pale, freckled skin reassuringly. "Everything's fine, no one else is here. It's just the two of us. No one is going to hurt you," he finished. Hux had started to calm down and Kylo kissed the top of his head. "I'm sorry," Kylo whispered into him, Hux fell into Kylo's arms, resting his head on Kylo's shoulder and didn't respond. He was however, visibly calmer and that was enough for him.   
  


* * *

  
Hux nervously parked his Prius outside of the hospital on Friday with Kylo next to him; Kylo - not being used to early mornings - was drinking an Americano out of a Starbucks cup. His long black hair was pushed back, making his scaffold piercing on his left ear visible. Hux couldn't help but smile and relax a little at the image of him, he was reassuring, had pulled himself out of bed for him  _and_ he was adorably grumpy in the mornings. Not that he was being irritable with Hux of course, just everything else. Kylo of course was being supportive and even quietly waiting until Hux was ready to leave the car, even in his slightly hungover, sleep deprived state he understood that was important.    
  
"There's some sunglasses in the glove box," Hux said noting Kylo's wincing at the sun coming through the trees that surrounded the hospital.   
  
"Thanks," the other replied pulling out a pair of gunmetal sunglasses, with a triangular pattern on the arms. He saw the 'Prada' label and looked at Hux with an open mouth and raised eyebrows. "How the hell did you afford these?! They look like they cost more than your rent!" He said admiring them.   
  
"Oh, I didn't," Hux said distractedly. "I picked them up from a target."  
  
"I will- be wearing a dead man's sunglasses?" Kylo said uncomfortably.   
  
"Oh the target was a woman and these were on her dresser, I think they belonged to her husband. I didn't kill him," Hux explained opening the door and getting out of the car. Kylo put on the sunglasses and did the same.  
  
"That's alright then, much better," Kylo said with a grin. Hux forced a chuckle as he opened his back door, pulled his black coat off of the backseat and pushed his arms through it. He squirmed uncomfortable, the coat felt strange against his bare arms. He wasn't used to wearing it without long sleeves, but the black t-shirt with grey stripes with old, dark jeans was significantly more comfortable than the suit he wore for work. The coat was designed for his work gear of course, and he didn't have another coat. He hesitated as he locked his door, and a moment later Kylo was next to him holding his hand. "It'll be okay," he assured. Hux smiled in response as they both walked hand in hand to the building itself, there were few things he hated and feared quite as much as hospitals.  
  
"Could I ask a rather intrusive question that you by no means have to answer?" Kylo asked as they walked through the entrance.   
  
"Go on," Hux answered warily.   
  
"Why do you still need surgery? I mean-"   
  
"Well," Hux interrupted with a humourless laugh. "It's more just a check up to make sure everything's okay. And I didn't really need surgery, they just wanted my genitals to look, well, more like a cock."   
  
"Could I ask what they looked like before? Why did you need surgery?" Kylo asked, suspecting he was pushing his luck a little. I mean, sure, Hux's genitals were a little... Different. Not that Kylo was complaining at all, he was more than happy with every aspect of Hux's body. It was just he didn't understand how it could be effect Hux's health at all, especially not now. When Hux let out a laugh in response as he pushed the button on the lift, Kylo thought he wasn't going to get an answer. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's - I know what it's like, I mean, I get asked about my genitals enough I should-"   
  
"Well, normally yes, I would tell the person who asked to fuck off. However, you've had your tongue deep in my arse and we know a scary amount about each other. I'm not sure there such a thing as intrusive between us at this point. But to answer your question, you know where the scars are? Imagine them not as... sewn together, I guess," Hux shrugged. "And, I didn't need the surgery. My father just thought it would be  _easier_ if I looked more normal."   
  
`So, it was a cosmetic thing?" Kylo asked, tone conveying more surprise than he intended. "You didn't even  _need_ it? How is scars, pain, and having to have traumatic surgery easier for you?!" Hux almost doubled over laughing at this response, he was almost hysterical. His legs were shaking and he had to hold onto the walls of the lift so he could stand up straight. He eventually calmed down, with tears running down his face and still giggling.  
  
"Sorry, I just, you think it was to make  _my_ life easier? Don't be silly," Hux said between giggles, attempting to compose himself as they left at the appropriate floor. "Of course not. It was because he couldn't stand the idea of having a child like well, me," he finished with a shrug as they left the floor. Hux took Kylo's hand again for reassurance, even though he was still giggling and had to keep clearing his throat Hux could see he was still incredibly nervous.   
  
"Okay, yes, I should have worked that out," Kylo smiled, he squeezed Hux's hand reassuringly as they walked up to the receptionist to announce their arrival. When he heard Hux's voice shake a little as he announced his first name, Kylo gently stroked Hux's hand with his thumb, visibly relaxing him a little. The reception told them to sit down and Hux nodded stepping away, Kylo took this opportunity to lower his head slightly and whisper in Hux's ear. "It's gonna be okay, Hux, I promise." He smiled appreciatively as they sat down,  Kylo continued talking to him through out, and holding his hand knowing that even though Hux was too anxious to say much he found Kylo's voice reassuring. Hux gave Kylo a hug and a kiss to let him know how he appreciated it. When they called Hux's name, his grip on Kylo's hand tightened as he turned to him, eyes wide and jaw clenched.   
  
"You're coming in with me, right?" Hux asked.   
  
"You look like you're about to have a heart attack, of course I will," Kylo joked, but not unkindly.   
  
Everything about the doctor's office was fairly normal and the surgical consultant. He asked some routine questions about his name and age, then the hard part came. In the pale blue room that managed to be both full, empty, small and huge all at the same time. Hux sat opposite the doctor and Kylo dragged an other over so he could set next to him for moral support. After the questions came the hard part, Hux had to change into a hospital gown and lay on the cot. He attempted to calm himself down, which was difficult when he was just in the gown, lying on the bed and he stared at the ceiling, desperate to control his breathing. Kylo kissed him on the forehead and stood next to him holding his hand. When the consultant came over and ask Hux to open his legs, his eyes started singing and the thoughts he was trying to repress came up again. Being six years old and although he was given anesthetic, it didn't help the fact that there was a man poking at his genitals. The pain that came after it wore off, him being inspected by his father to see how he was 'doing'. Kylo noticed his eyes water up and his hands started to shake, at that point he got down on his knees and started to whisper in Hux's ear.   
  
"Hux, my darling," he whispered, stroking the side of Hux's face. Kylo watched Hux's soft pink lips and smiled when his voice helped them to stop shaking. However, a moment later, Kylo suspected the doctor was doing something to hurt Hux mentally or physically because he winced and let out a small whine. "It's okay, I'm here. You're doing so well, beautiful," he continued. "We'll be done soon, then we can go get some lunch. When I finish work I'll come see you, how does that sound? We can sit, cuddle, marathon 24 and order take out." Hux actually managed to smile at that one, he'd been trying to get Kylo to watch the show for so long and had never succeeded. He insisted it was a stupid, overly masculine show and Hux had insisted that it was... That's why it was so fun. It was ridiculous. "You can show me why you like that absurd show-"   
  
"Jack Bauer is pretty-"  
  
"I don't get it-"  
  
"It's just fun to watch-"  
  
"So you insist," Kylo whispered back with a glint in his eye. "I promise we'll watch it tonight. I'm sorry I have to work, my love," he finished kissing Hux's forehead.   
  
"It's o-okay-" Hux said in a strained voice. Suddenly they were both interrupted by the doctor standing up and taking off his gloves.   
  
"Everything's fine," he said in a dismissive voice rather than a reassuring one. "However, there is still a bit of cleaning up I'd like to do. I can book you in for another surgery-"   
  
"No," Hux said suddenly sitting up and closing his legs to regain some dignity. "I don't want any more surgery." The doctor opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. He clearly wasn't sure how to respond to Hux and wasn't expecting such defiance.   
  
"But-"   
  
"Is there anything wrong with me? Not with how I look-" He said raising his hand to interrupt the doctor. "-is there anything  _wrong_? Is it harming me? Is there any  _medical_ reason to perform a highly invasive and painful surgery on me  _again_?"   
  
"Well, it looks-"  
  
"Oh, I see," Hux said suddenly, standing up and look as menacing as anyone could in a hospital gown. "So, it's just to make my genitals  _normal,_ yes? You just want to- I can't- No," Hux said, stammering slightly but standing his ground. "If I have any problems I will ring and book another appointment but, if all you want to do is make sure what's between my legs looks  _correct_ I think I will be getting changed and  _leaving_ ," Hux said before spinning on his heel and walking into the changing room. When he came out the other side, leading him to the hallway in his striped t-shirt and jeans he was greeted with a hug and an instant, passionate kiss from Kylo.   
  
"I am so, so proud of you," he grinned when the kiss broke, their foreheads touching in the hospital hallway. "I am just- well done, Hux. I can't-" Kylo beamed at Hux and hugged him tighter, his eyes watering and his hands flapping from how happy he was at what had just transpired. Hux acted a little aloof and embarrassed but he had to admit... He was a little proud too. 


	4. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to the time Hux was locked in the cellar, it happens on a job, which is really, really not good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time line wise this happens between Erratic at Best and Attitude Adjustment

Hux hated the cold, which was incredibly unfortunate because his eating disorder and absurdly low weight caused him to be shivering a lot of the time. He was stood on top of a multistory car park at eight in the morning in a baggy navy t-shirt, old jeans and  blue and grey trainers. All of which belonged to Kylo, which is why he had to keep pulling the jeans up and the shoes were giving him blisters. He actually felt a little nostalgic, it had been a while since he had worn such ill-fitting clothes that had once belonged to someone else. At least this time it was nice, he did quite like where his boyfriend's clothes. Even if it was on a rather inconvenient occasion. Normally he would wear a suit and his trench coat to a job but he got this call an hour ago which woke him up whilst he was in Kylo's room. In combination with what Hux knew about the cameras Phasma had in Kylo's room, he wasn't entirely sure the phone call from her was an accident. So, he had just under an hour to shower, get changed and take a forty minute car ride. Thankfully for him, he always kept his guns in the false bottom in the boot of his car, so he didn't have to pick his Mk 12 up. Not so thankfully for him, it meant he was stood there, a little hungover, in the cold, and a little sleep deprived. It also hadn't occurred to him to borrow a jacket. Well, that was a lie, Kylo kept shouting at him to grab a jumper but he was convinced he wouldn't need one. Plus, he felt a little guilty taking all of Kylo's clothes including socks and underwear. But his clothes from the night before were covered in blood, come and vomit so he didn't have much choice. Anyway, so here he was, looking down his scope and waiting for a man to come out of his work building so he could shoot him before he got into his car. Hux drops down into the multistory car park, Phasma already made sure all of the possible CCTV wasn't working, the bullet in the gun might be connected to Hux's favourite Mk 12... If someone wasn't already there on the scene to dispose of the bullet. Hux's job was easy, just shoot at the right time. It was so well thought out that he was convinced Phasma  _must_ have been organising this for a while - so not telling Hux until now had to be intentional.   
  
And that was fine, it probably worked in Hux's favour that he didn't look like he worked for the mob but he was so fucking cold. He could feel the damp in his chest even though the air was dry, he could feel the floorboards below his feet even though it was concrete, and he could see the dark, dingy surroundings even though it was bright, icy morning. He looked down the scope and his knuckles hurt, he felt the pain of banging on the wooden door until he got splinters in his fingers and blood on the door. He felt his father's fingers on his neck as he through him down the cold stairs. He blinked and shook his head, he tried to focus on what was really around him but he couldn't. He couldn't see the light blue, cloudless sky or the gigantic corporation building for some company he'd barely heard of, he couldn't focus on anything around him, his mind was screaming memories at him as he heard his father's distorted shouting. It was his fault really, he was sixteen and his father had found the prospectus for a far away university - with the page about engineering marked. Now, normally Hux was very good at hiding this sort of thing but he slipped up. He had left it on his bed, not hidden anywhere and a servant had seen it and thus given it to his father who was not happy. He also demanded to know who had given it to him and being the weak, pathetic little maggot he was, he told him. His maths teacher had given it to him; he was a young, idealistic new teacher at his academy. He'd taken a shine to the quiet, isolated kid and wanted to give him some form of aspiration - the man had grey eyes, brown skin and black hair. In hindsight, Hux remembered how he went a little breathless when he looked at him and his mouth went dry whenever the teacher spoke. He was a little bit in love with the man, the first person who had ever asked Hux what  _he_ wanted to do. He remembered that conversation very clearly. Hux was taking his time packing his school bag, Maths being the last lesson of the day and him delaying the time it took him to get there. His teacher had noticed of course, they learn to recognise this sort of thing over time. What Hux didn't expect was for the teacher to come to his desk and sit down in front of him.  
  
"What do you want to do when you leave the academy?" He asked suddenly, making Hux jump and drop his bag onto the table.   
  
"Oh, uh-" Hux paused. No one had ever asked him that before. "My father he, he wants me to join the Military," he finished lamely. He knew it sounded pathetic but he didn't know what else to say.   
  
"I asked what  _you_ wanted to do, not your father," the teacher responded with a side smile. Hux stared at his hands which were currently playing with the straps on his bag.   
  
"I uh- I don't know, I like Maths, Physics, I want to- build things, I guess," he responded, feeling his face burning with embarrassment.   
  
"Now we're getting somewhere! Build things like houses?"   
  
"No, like, I want to build stuff like- like for NASA - like rockets or something." As Hux spoke he was opening and closing the zip of his bag, he could feel his face turning a deep scarlet. It felt like a ridiculous dream not anything worth even thinking about.   
  
"Engineering! You want to be an engineer!" The teacher replied excitedly, causing Hux's shoulders to relax as he looked up a little.   
  
"I- yeah! Yeah, I do," Hux said with a smile. "But i mean, I know it won't happen-"   
  
"Why not?" The teacher asked instantly.   
  
"My father-"   
  
"Its your life not his." Hux snorted in response.   
  
"I don't think you-"   
  
"He can't do anything when you're far away at university," The teacher responded kindly. Hux froze instantly but couldn't help but smile, it was true. If he was far away from home he could do what he wanted. After that Hux often stayed behind after school to talk to the teacher about... Anything. Their lives, maths, physics, engineering and one day, at the beginning of class the teacher put a prospectus on his desk, with a page marked. It was for one of the best engineering courses in the country - which the teacher was convinced he would be able to get onto. Of course when his father found it, he wasn't so enthusiastic. His father rang the school, the teacher in question was transferred, Hux never got close to anyone at the school again but he never stopped wanting to go to the university. That's what he screamed at his father before he was thrown in the cellar. Hux's throat hurt when he thought of the words he shouted, about how he didn't want to join the army and turn into a sadistic, pathetic, lonely man like Brendol Hux. That was too much, it was a big mistake. It was that that made him feel like he had deserved to be in the cellar. It was a stupid mistake, he should have hidden the prospectus better. He shouldn't have shouted at the man. Back in the present, Hux still wondered what it would have been like if he had gone to university. You wouldn't have met Kylo, he thought, and there was a twinge in his rib cage. That was true. He wouldn't have met Kylo.   
  
He attempted to look through the scope and not focus on the past, which was getting incredibly difficult. However in a few moments the man would be coming out of the building and he needed to make it one shot, more than that and things would get complicated. His hands were shaking. His thoughts wouldn't stop racing: No fuck, Hux, No, this is the one thing your good at, look there he is you can shoot him, fuck. He missed. The man he was supposed to shoot stopped and looked around and everyone screamed at the gun shot. Hux had to shoot again, he made it this time and shot the man in the chest, he was down. Not necessarily dead, he shot him again in the head, twice, just in case. He was down. Hux, took the gun, threw the bandoleer around his torso, threw himself over the wall of the car park and quickly allowed himself to drop down. He was about to run to his car when he froze because stood in front of him, were two police officers and one of them was pointing a gun at his head.  
  
The two of them look very familiar, one of the introduced himself as Officer Dameron but he didn't catch the other's name, he was too busy turning around and running. He jumped over two cars to the end of the car park, he heard two shots behind him and he'd managed to miss them both. He threw himself over the car park wall, he grabbed onto the bar on the side, hoping they'd think he'd fallen off. Thank fuck for the Military Academy, he thought suddenly. He dropped down to the next floor. No cops, he thought. He ran to the lift before they could find him, pressed the ground floor button a good five times, he got there, looked out of the lift, both ways, no one, and he ran. He ran out of the car park. Down the street. He kept running forward, down the middle of the street, in broad daylight with an Mk 12 strapped to his back and he knew full well this was the worst fucking idea in the world. It was okay, Phasma could make this disappear, he knew that. That being said, he still thought it was best to turn down the nearest dark alley and run down there. When he got there he doubled over, a stitch in his side and gasping for breath. There was no one there, and he became suspicious... the cops had sure given up easily. He eventually stood up and looked around, the alley was empty, he cautiously walked to the end. He knew where he was, he was a good half an hour away from the club and twenty minutes away from his house. He could call Phasma, but that would mean telling her he fucked up a job... And he couldn't do that. He could call Kylo but there was no way of him getting here. He didn't have anyone else. Except. Well, there was one person.   
  
No way, he thought, no, he wouldn't help me, he'd just laugh and leave me to get shot, arrested or worse. Or, that Familiar Voice said, maybe, he'd want to avoid a scandal. He'd probably want you to be kept in the dark and out of prison. Hux considered this for a moment and took out his phone. He hovered over the one other number in his phone, his fathers. He decided to leave it up to fate - if his father answered (which he doubted) then he would ask for his help. If not, he'd think of another way, and he wouldn't beg. No, he'd ask his father for a lift and that would be it. If he said no, he'd hang up. He rang the number and held it to his ear, after six rings he was about to hang up and then his heart stopped. He'd answered.   
  
"Brendol Hux speaking."   
  
"Father, I need a favour," Hux said instantly, or practically hissed. It had been the first time he'd heard the man's voice in a long time and it felt like poison in his brain.   
  
"Who is this?" Brendol responded mockingly, Hux couldn't decided whether this was a comment about how they never spoke, or how forgettable Hux was to his his father. He settled on a mixture of both.   
  
"Hux."   
  
"Oh, you mean Armitage."   
  
"Father-"  
  
"Well, how can I help you,  _Armitage_?" Hux winced, talking to this man was painful and exhausting.   
  
"I - I need a lift," he responded, he felt his voice getting weaker and he even bowed his head. This man turned him into something pathetic.   
  
"Why do you need me?" Brendol asked.   
  
"I don't have my car at present, and uh-" Hux paused and took a deep breath. He was going to have to tell him. "I'm stuck in the middle of the street with no car, hiding from some cops and uh, I have an Mk 12. Unless you want all of the papers to know all about everything your bastard son does I strongly suggest you come and get me,  _now_ ," Hux said down the phone, The Monster had come out, with his voice that could shatter diamond without raising it's voice. It caused even his father to fall silent.   
  
"Give me an address and I'll save your arse, you little cunt," Brendol spat down the phone. Hux told him where he was and hung up the phone. True to his word, his father was there in his Aston Martin in not time at all. Hux grinned when he got into the passenger's seat, his father still hadn't gotten it repainted from where he'd keyed it. He was given some pride in that. "What are you doing there?" Brendol growled at Hux when he was sat in the front.   
  
"Fuck you," Hux spat grabbing onto his gun but not aiming it at the man (not that he wasn't tempted.) Brendol caught sight of the weapon in Hux's hand and decided this wasn't a fight he wanted to get involved in.   
  
"Well, you grew some balls," Brendol responded as he started driving with a smirk. Hux stared at Kylo's blue and grey trainers bitterly, Ah yes, he thought sardonically, jokes about my ambiguous genitalia, that never gets old. Hux didn't reply, that didn't stop his father who sighed in disappointment. "Or maybe not. Am I taking you to your appointment or to my little whore? Isn't he your  _boyfriend_ or something now?" Hux's neck snapped up and he stared at Brendol. He had suspected that Phasma had told him but now he had confirmation. "You know, I knew I was right all along, you're just a little bitch. A maggot- oh no wait, I misspoke, a faggot. That's the word I mean! Oh well, I wasn't far off."  
  
"How do you know where my apartment is?" Hux said, not taking the bait.   
  
"Obviously you'd direct me," Brendol said evasively. "So it's there you want to go then? Not to see my slut?"   
  
"He's not  _yours_ ," Hux growled, not that he meant to. It just came out of his mouth.   
  
"Oh, isn't he?" Brendol said with a grin and a spark in his eyes. "I know, I'll drop you off at the club and you can ask him yourself." Hux stared at his father, his lips slightly parted as his breathing slowed. He didn't know whether this was a bluff or not, there was no way for him to tell. He just bit into his lip and turned away.   
  
"Fine," Hux responded. He told himself, he'd said yes because he didn't want his father to know where he lived... Not because he was doing what he said.   
  
"I am curious," Brendol asked as he stopped a traffic light. "Why ring me? Why not your boyfriend? Why not your boss? Why not your friends? 'I thought you never wanted to see me again' and yet, here you are,"   
  
"Well, you might be pleased to know that because of you ruining my fucking life, I don't have anyone. My life is fucking empty. I have a fucking boyfriend but he doesn't have a fucking car, so I'm stuck having ring you. The fucking monster who destroyed everything, so thanks for that," Hux, or rather The Monster, snarled at his father. Brendol didn't respond, they didn't speak for the rest of the journey. Eventually he dropped him outside the club, driving off as soon as he was out the car and Hux walked to the club... Trying not to think about how his father had spoken about his partner, and how really fucking horrifying that was. 


	5. A Different Kind of Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux goes back to an old coping method, and tries out a new one. It doesn't turn out well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw // self harm and drug use

 

Hux paces up and down his living room. He feels aggravated and anxious. There are too many feelings, too many loud memories, he needs his mind to be quiet.  _Vicious _hands grabbing, pinching, clinging to every available bit of flesh.__ He pulls at his own hair, clenches his own teeth and inadvertently whines.  _ _Long white corridors, sitting alone in waiting rooms surrounded by adults who all stare at the small boy curiously.__ He stops and curls up on the sofa, he pulls one of the cushions into his chest and screws his eyes shut. He tries to focus on the soft fabric.  _ _His head held in the sink filled with water. Lungs filling, eyes stinging. "I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die."__ He sits up and throws the cushion to the otherside of the sofa, staring at the ceiling in defeat. He briefly wonders what the happy people are doing with their Friday evenings.  _ _Sat cross legged on stone slabs of the patio wrapped in a blanket. Watching the bright stars above him, shivering in his thin pajamas and bare feet hoping that it didn't rain that night.__ He wants the hours to pass, he wants Kylo to finish work and to come see him. No, he wishes Kylo wasn't at work at all. He wishes his love was there with him - it would all be okay if they were together right now. His beloved had a way of making the flashbacks pass quickly, it was easier to think of the good things when he was around. He tried to imagine being with him right now. He pictured Kylo's arms around him, stroking his pale cold skin, he thought about them in bed together with their skin touching.  _ _A small boy pinned to a bed for inspection. "It's for your own good", "to make sure the stitches haven't come out", and "to make sure it's healing properly". That's what his father says anyway as he pokes and grabs at him with morbid curiosity.  
__  
"Fuck, fuck fuck," he growled, standing up and pacing again. He couldn't even think of something beautiful without it being poisoned. He needed something else to think about - he need something to replace the feeling of insects crawling up his back and needles in his skin. _The touch starved boy is desperate for affection whenever he can get it. It doesn't hurt as much if he doesn't argue. He's allowed to be held to his father's chest, have his hair stroked and have a kiss on the forehead afterwards if he's a good boy.  If he doesn't cry too much during, and doesn't ask his father to stop. He'll get to sleep in the large, comfy bed and his father will bring him breakfast tomorrow. If he just does everything he says now. If he doesn't cry or resist then everything will be fine._ He stops in front of his kitchen and thinks, there is one sure way to make the thoughts stop. For a few minutes, he thought. Unless... He wondered. There were the pills he'd pocketed at that last job - the morphine pills. He told himself he took them because if they were found at the dead man's place they might have made a real investigation. That was a little bit true, he was also curious. It was rare you just came across narcotics. He'd never had them before but - no, he thought instantly. This is a ridiculous idea.   
  
He feels his body shaking and his palms begin to sweat. It's not a terrible idea? He could cut into himself, clean it up before Kylo gets home and then take a couple of pills - just to tide him over for the next couple of hours. Kylo never need know. _The sound of footsteps coming from the staircase on the other side of the door. The small boy puts a hand over his mouth to silence his breathing. Scratches on his abdomen from the rough carpet. The creaking sound of the door. The floorboards. The small boy curls up, pushing himself closer to the wall. Hiding. He shuts his eyes, hoping in the way only a child can, that this will make him harder to see. He smells cigarettes and whiskey. He feels an arm reaching towards him, grabbing motions, pulling him roughly across the carpet and out of from under the bed. A small terrified boy with disheveled red hair and wide bright eyes is grabbed by the arm and pulled out of the room. The boy digs his heals into the carpet determined not to move - a large hand makes swift contact with the back of his head. The man could have easily dragged him despite his protests, he could have controlled the boy with a glare or shout, but he didn't._ That was it, he needed to do it. He needed something to ground him, to keep him in this apartment, this time, to keep him out of his own head. It would be fine, it wouldn't be like Kylo would ever need to find out.  __  
  


Hux pulled the kitchen knife across his waist in three, sharp strikes and watched with fascination as the scratches slowly opened up and watched as some balls of red collected, running down his pale skin from different starting points across the cut. Not being satisfied by this he pulled the sides of his skin apart, forcing more blood to fall from the wound and continued to watch. If someone had been in the room with him it probably would have been unnerving to see the thin man watch blood drip down his hip with such a neutral expression. He took the kitchen knife in his hand and gently rubbed the blade around, scratching himself a little but with the intention of moving the blood around with a morbid yet childlike interest. He put the knife down on the coffee table, and picked up the second part of plan for the evening - a prescription bottle of Morphine Sulfate that he'd taken from a target's house, which declared them as belonging to a name that wasn't his target's. The pills declared themselves as 15mg meaning that they weren't particularly strong and (according to the internet) he could take three without being need to be rushed to hospital. In theory he could have up to 200mg, but the website had claimed that someone who hadn't a tolerance to narcotics could overdose at 60mg. This is why he was only taking three of them, because he may have been self-destructive and he may have wanted to cause himself as much pain as possible but he very much didn't want to die. He washed them down with a can of coke and leaned back in the sofa with his eyes close waiting for the high to hit him... Which happened quicker than he had expected. It was probably a mistake on his part to choose Morphine as his first drug attempt. He expected to feel more energetic, but instead he felt very sedated and for the first time in his life his mind actually felt quiet. He knew it was a dangerous terrible idea but whilst he was sat there switching on his television and watching a repeat of some old American sitcom, which suddenly turned in to the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. He sat there for a while, sweating with his pupils contracted, barely aware of time passing with a smile the entire time. He felt... Amazing. Quiet. Relaxed. He felt like he wasn't buzzing for the first time. Mostly, he just felt really fucking good. After an hour or so, he noticed everything started to get louder again, his hands started to get shaky so he decided to take three more in an attempt to just let the feeling last for a little longer.  
  
It was then he heard a knock at his locked door and glancing at the clock on his phone realising that Kylo had finished work. Under normal circumstances, he would have cleaned up the dried blood on his stomach and have covered it up before Kylo got there. He'd have probably lied about how it was from work and everything would have been fine. However, at the moment he didn't really notice or care about either of these things. So he stood up, didn't think to pull on the t-shirt he had been wearing that was flung over the arm of the sofa and in his mind, walked perfectly normally to the door. In reality he was unsteady on his feet shaking and stumbling every fourth step. He opened the door, with a docile smile as he saw the familiar, soft, pale face and long black hair. He was expecting to immediately be given a kiss, or a hug at least but Kylo, reacted in a way that he hadn't expected.   
  
"Hux, are you okay?" He said warily, as he looked the skinny, ginger haired man in front of him up and down before edging past him into the apartment. It wasn't until Hux shut the door and turned around that Kylo noticed the wound on his stomach. "Fuck, Hux, is that-" he stopped mid sentence, staring at the dried blood on his stomach. Hux looked down at his own stomach as if he'd forgotten it was there.   
  
"Oh," he started with a smile. "It's nothing-"   
  
"Why are you smiling?" Kylo said with narrowed eyes.   
  
"Uh, nice to know-"   
  
"Why did you answer the door shirtless?"   
  
"Can we just-"   
  
"Your eyes are contracted and your sweating."  
  
"I uh-"   
  
"Hux, what the fuck is going on?" Kylo asked, his tone demanding and his breathing becoming heavy. His eyes suddenly landed on Hux's waist. "Those cuts are straight and in a line," Kylo added, Hux's smiling response only causing him to worry further. His love raised up his hands in mock defeat.   
  
"Look, it's nothing, okay? I just, I was upset, but then I took a couple of pills and-"   
  
"What did you take?" Kylo interrupted, eyes widened as his mouth started to become dry. When you lived in the club you saw your fair share of drug use and overdoses and he immediately assumed the worst.   
  
"Morphine, a few pills-"   
  
"Why did you cut yourself?" He was so irritated at Hux at the moment, he wasn't even willing to really listen to him. The man was supposed to be one of the few constant safe things in his life and he had to fucking lose control and do something incredibly fucking stupid. Kylo found himself becoming more infuriated when Hux just shrugged. He was tempted to shout at the man but he knew that in his current state it wouldn't have done much good. Instead he stared as Hux rambled and attempted to explain himself. Kylo didn't listen and interrupted him again. "That cut's going to go bad." He didn't wait for Hux's reaction he just turned around, took the hitman's hand and walked him into his small bathroom. Kylo heard Hux continuously talking to him but he was too furious at him to listen. He didn't know where Hux's first aid box was but it wasn't like he needed stitches or anything. Kylo knew there was some Sudeocrem in the bathroom, Hux sat down beside the sink on the edge of the bath. Kylo never thought he'd miss the panicked look he recieved whenever Hux thought he was angry at him. Right now he just recieved an oblivious, drugged smile and it was more than a little disturbing. Kylo filled the sink with hot soapy water and dipped the hand towel in it before kneeling in front of Hux, cleaning the dried blood from his stomach.   
  
"You know, while your down there-" Hux grinned as Kylo was between his legs, he responded by looking up with scowl before turning his gaze back to the would.  
  
"I don't like you very much when your high," Kylo grumbled. "I mean," he began, rinsing the blood out of the towel in the sink and returning to Hux's torso. "I love you but I don't like you when you're like this."   
  
"I feel really good," Hux argued. "Like, really good. My head isn't- everything's- I actually-"   
  
"For now," Kylo interrupted.   
  
"I didn't realise you were so anti-"   
  
"I'm not. I'm just against my depressed boyfriend taking narcotics, by himself, when he's never had any before. I'm also against him cutting himself," he snarled. After he finished up cleaning Hux's stomach, he picked up the Sudocrem and delicately rubbed it into the cuts. "How long ago did you take them?"  
  
"I-uh- just took some more, the first one was like, about three hours ago? I don't know, what time is it?"   
  
"Just after midnight," Kylo responded standing up and furrowing his brow. He placed his hand in front of Hux's nose (to his bemusement) and then tested his pulse. "You- what dosage? The pills, I mean."   
  
"Uh, 15mg, I only took uh, three each time meaning- I had uh, I don't know, 55mg?"   
  
"45," Kylo answered with raised eyebrows and worried eyes. Hux could do quadratic equations in his head, this was more than a little scary.   
  
"Oh yeah," Hux responded, attempting to lay back, not realising he was sat on the edge of the bath before Kylo quickly grabbed him and kept him steady. He pulled Hux into his arms, feeling his head against his stomach and stroking his hair.   
  
"Well, if you overdosed, you would be taking about six breaths in a minute but... You're not. Your breathing is a little slow but not worringly so. Still... You fucking idiot," Kylo said with a slight degree of affection but mostly with irritation. "I can't believe you've done this. Why- I can't- since when do you- how did you even get hold of them?" He asked, taking Hux's hand and leading his semi-delirious partner into the living room.   
  
"Found 'em, at a target's house, he didn't need them any more," Hux responded, attempting to sound jokingly menacing but his slurred words ruined the effect somewhat. Kylo sat on the sofa in front of the episode of Seinfeld, and Hux fell down into the space next to him, curling up on his side and resting his head in Kylo's lap, who responded by grudgingly stroking his hair. After a few moments he stood up, taking Hux by surprise and letting him fall to the sofa.   
  
"You should eat something," Kylo said despondently walking over to Hux's kitchen and looking through his cupboards, sighing. Of course the only things he had were candy bars and a fridge containing a couple of beers and more cans of coke. He eventually just made Hux some toast and decided to order something. Kylo doubted coke would do any harm but he bitterly filled Hux a glass of water instead. He walked back with the food and drink to a slightly hurt looking Hux. Kylo took his phone out of his jeans pocket, look at it, ignored the three unread messages from Brendol and put it on the coffee table. It was 12.45, in theory Hux should be coming down soon and considering he'd avoided the drop earlier, he wasn't looking forward to it.   
  
"You couldn't have gotten me a coke?" Hux asked, taking the toast from Kylo and wolfing it down before placing the plate on the coffee table and drink the water in three gulps.   
  
"I could have, I didn't," Kylo responded, feeling a little childish but not really caring.   
  
"You're mad at me," Hux accused and Kylo would've softened a little if he didn't still have that fucking, drugged up smile.   
  
"Of course I'm fucking mad at you," Kylo said pretending his attention was on Seinfeld.   
  
"I-"  
  
"I'm not talking to you until you start sober up and the come down starts," Kylo huffed. Hux edged away and Kylo rolled his eyes and raised arm, gesturing for Hux to come closer to him. He wrapped his arm around Hux's bony shoulders, pulling him into his chest, grudgingly kissing the top of his head. Hux curled up contentedly as Kylo glared at the television. "I'm still mad at you, and I'm still not talking to you," he added, tone a little immature but he felt he'd earned that right.   
  
"I know."  


* * *

  
Just as Kylo suspected, Hux's come down was fast and hard. He didn't cry, shout or anything else, he just sat there staring at the wall and didn't want to exist. No, more than that. He became self-conscious of the space he was occupying. It wasn't that he wanted to die he just didn't want to exist; he didn't want anything around him to exist. Kylo who had an idea of what he was going through, pulled the shivering man into his arms, gently rubbing his back. "You're freezing," he said softly. "Do you want to get into bed?" Hux nodded. Kylo stood up, offering out his hand and gently guiding Hux to follow him.   
  
"Are you still angry?" Hux asked, voice quiet and broken. He sounded so low, Kylo's eyes almost started stinging. He knew Hux had been in bad places but he'd never been in a chemically induced bad place - this was... This was new to him. Kylo stopped, turned around and pulled his love into his arms, burying his face into his shoulder.   
  
"No," Kylo whispered, feeling Hux relax a little in his arms.   
  
"I know I fucked up, I didn't mean for- I didn't- I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be. Just... Don't scare me like this again, okay?" Kylo said with a smile, kissing Hux on the forehead. "So are you going to tell me what happened?" He received a nod in response. "When we're curled up in bed?" Hux nodded again. 


	6. Beautiful Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux can't sleep, and tries to deal with his own nightmare as opposed to waking Kylo.

Hux sat up instantly in bed, having woken up covered in seat and shaking. His left hand immediately reached out to his side, making contact with Kylo's hip who responded by mumbling sleepily and stirring slightly.   
  
"It's okay, love," Hux whispered. "Go back to sleep." His voice was shaking and an awakened Kylo would have noticed instantly. Thankfully, Hux thought, half asleep Kylo didn't notice and curled back onto his side. Hux swung his legs over the side of the bed and buried his head in his hands. He ran his hands through his hair, pulling at it and scratched his neck before leaning forward with hunched shoulders. His eyes were heavy and his body ached, he desperately wanted to go to sleep but preferably without dreaming. And with his nightmare haunting him, he didn't think he'd be able to rest any time soon. He awkwardly stood up, stumbling a little through exhaustion and in the darkness, attempting to leave the room quietly and finding his way into the bathroom. He turned the light on without thinking, wincing and hiding his eyes for a few moments whilst they got used to the light again. He stumbled over to the sink ran the hot water, splashing some on his face before looking up at his reflection. "I'm in my apartment, I'm with Kylo, I'm not a child any more, I'm safe," he said to himself, whilst focusing on his features to prove it to himself. He focused on his bony, thin body  - which although he knew he technically needed to gain weight he actually liked. It felt genderless, he was scared if he gained wait he'd become bulky and masculine. He almost made eye contact with himself and immediately flinched away from doing so, his bright blue eyes squinting at him as he did so. His bright ginger hair was getting a little long, falling over his ears and was a completely mess, he thought. He pushed back some of the hair that was falling over his face in an attempt to control it a little before turning away from his reflection and walking into the living room. He practically fell into his sofa, lying there for a moment, not sleeping but with his eyes shut. He desperately wanted to get the nightmare out of his mind but he couldn't. The flashback ones were the worst, at least if it wasn't based in fact he could dismiss it when he woke up. It wasn't real, it wouldn't happen, it ever happened. With this however, he couldn't do that.  He closed his eyes and there he was, right back there again.   
  
He was twelve years old, two weeks since his last surgery and he was lying onto of his small, single bed hoping that his father would come into the room that night but also hoping that he would. He suspected his father would - like he had done every day that week since he came home from the hospital. Brendol claimed he needed to 'check his stitches', something the boy knew to be a lie this time. Just after the surgery, the doctor had had this conversation with him. He could check it himself quite easily and it took a few seconds, that's when he had confirmation of what he guess he already knew. Not that it was that much of a surprise, his father didn't use this as an excuse any more. It was just confirmation that his father had been molesting him for a long time before that - one or twice a month under the guise of an 'inspection'. As soon as he turned ten, his father had started raping him one or twice a week - and would continue to do so until he left at seventeen. It would be another two years before his father would start to lose interest, not that that would stop him. It just meant the nights weren't as loving any more, he wasn't called beautiful, showered in kisses, cuddled and his father didn't sleep with him any more. Of course, then if he cried too much or did something to displease his father, he wouldn't receive any affection at all... But at least there was a chance of it. As soon as he turned fourteen, he was tormented, tortured, and insulted whilst it happened. He was told about this beautiful young thing he knew - who was younger and tougher. He described this beautiful young thing with thick, black hair whilst he hurt his son. He was constantly reminded of how if he was able to fuck that child then he wouldn't be fucking the scrawny, sniveling, disgusting thing that barely deserved his cock. For now though, at twelve years old, he still did look forward to his father's visits in a way.   
  
As the child rested there he told himself the same words over and over: I'm not going to cry this time, I'm not going to be a baby, I'm just going to let him look, grab and pinch at me, I'm not going to cry when he fucks me, he's going to call me beautiful this time, I'm going to get to sleep with him in the big bed, he's going to cuddle me, he's going to love me. At twelve years old, when he still called himself Armitage, he thought that was the only way to feel loved, and for over a decade he'd think he never would feel like that again. That was until he met Kylo, but that's a different story. He was lying on the bed for a long time, and he fell asleep only to be woken up by his opening door letting an orange light across his room that made him wince. The second thing he noticed was an overpowering smell of the whiskey his father liked, which made him gag even then but he repressed it. He was going to be perfect.   
  
"Armitage?" His father whispered, knelt by his bed. He pretended he was still sleeping so his father wouldn't get angry. "Armitage, my boy, wake up." His large, shaking hand reached out to his shoulder and shook it gently. The boy repressed smile as he rolled over - usually his father woke him up with shouting, banging or cold water. This was much nicer.   
  
"Father?" The child mumbled, pretending he didn't know what was happening.   
  
"Come on, Armitage, come with me," his father said softly, slightly needlessly since he gently and effortlessly picked up his tiny body in a bridal carry. At the time, the boy saw his touch as loving but as an adult his old, shaking, hands felt painful, like sandpaper against his skin. When he was still young, he rested his head against his father's chest listening to the man's heartbeat and restless breathing. Normally, his father wouldn't touch him without hitting, dragging him or flinching. This in comparison felt loving - at least before Hux knew what that meant. Sleazy or hungry might be more accurate words to describe it. His father laid him down in the spare room on a bed at least three times as large as his own. His father but the dimmer light on, slowly edging it up so his son didn't flinch as much. "Now get undressed for me, little one," his father said uncharacteristically softly, with a glint in his eye that he'd later learn was sadistic. The boy took off his greying hand-me-down t-shirt and his light blue underwear, and folded them onto a pile he placed on the bedside table. His father looked at him hungrily - or with affection, as he thought then. The man climbed onto the bed, still clothed and eyed the boy with a smirk. It was a cruel glare the child assumed he deserved, he'd known for a long time that his body was strange and inferior in some way. His father claimed he would be much nicer about it than anyone else - a statement Hux assume was true until he met Kylo. It didn't matter what his father thought then, he still thought he was beautiful. His father took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, sitting at the boy's feet.   
  
"Spread your legs for me," he said, the child obliged him immediately calling his father to give a thin smile. The man climbed onto the bed on his hands and knees, pushing the boy's legs onto his shoulders. The child gulped as he felt the large fingers pulling at the freshly sewn up skin between his legs. I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, the young Hux told himself over and over again. He hit into his bottom lip, trying to ignore the pain of his father pressing into his stitches. His father pulled on the main part of his genitalia looking up at his son curiously, and although the child felt his eyes stinging he managed to choke back the tears. Since his eyes were screwed up, he didn't see the slightly proud but mostly disappointed look from his father. "So, you can piss standing up now, can't you?" His father said a little cruelly, causing his son's ears to burn with humiliation. The boy nodded in response, not trusting himself to speak. "It's almost like you're an actual boy," the man said sardonically. This carried on for a few minutes, and when the child had managed not to cry through out the whole thing, he was rewarded with a rough kiss, one that would make him want to throw up when he thought of it years later but for now was one thing he could cling to. His father cared about him, his father loved him, right?   
  
"Get under the covers," the man responded standing up, turning the lights out and undressing as the young boy crawled underneath the duvet, waiting for his father terrified but knowing if he got through this then it would all be okay. His father would even be nice to him tomorrow - bring him breakfast in bed, let him stay home from school, and all of his punishments would be saved until the day after. He felt his father's arms pull him up onto his lap, pressing his large, swollen stomach into the boy's small back. Although Hux can guess at what happened next, his child-like mind wouldn't allow him to really process it. He remembered pain, his father telling him he was beautiful, being told how 'tight' he was, and having to bite a pillow to stop himself from screaming from how he was being violated. If he cried, or did something else to displease his father, at the end his father would slam him into the floor, kick him in the stomach and piss on him. This time however, he did a good job and barely let out a sound. When the man finished, because the child had been so good, he got to curl up in bed with him. His father kissed the top of his head as the child was overwhelmed with whiskey, resisting the urge to gag, and told him he was such a beautiful little boy, despite his abnormalities. "No one else will ever love you despite that," the man crooned into the young boy's ear. "No one will love you like I do."  
  
Hux, in the present, felt his shoulder being shaken gently waking him up. He gulped, pushing himself up and grabbing whatever had woken him up. When he opened his eyes he found himself face to face with Kylo, who he had grabbed the neck and was looking at him with wide, terrified brown eyes. Hux dropped him instantly, staring at the now slightly calmer but still shaking boy with horror, disgusted at himself. He sat up, his eyes stinging and arms shaking as Kylo stood there over him unsure of what to do.   
  
"Oh f-fuck Ky-l-lo," Hux stammered, tears running down his face. He felt a stab of guilt at his gut as his brain started to cloud over. "I'm so sorry, I- I had- I had a- it was a nightmare- I thought you were-" He stopped, unable to speak around his tears. He looked up at his love who looked visibly relaxed and moved around to his side, sitting on the arm of the sofa. He wrapped his arms around Hux's shoulders.   
  
"It's okay," Kylo said, kissing the top of Hux's head. "I understand."   
  
"I- did I hurt you?"   
  
"Not really, you took me by surprise, but I'm okay," Kylo said softly, stroking Hux's hair. "I was more worried when I saw you were gone. Come back to bed, my love." Kylo walked Hux by the hand back to the bedroom, and through his tears he actually managed a smile. See? he told himself. He was wrong, Kylo loves me. Every part of me. No despite at all. He repeated that to himself over and over again, hoping it would make his mind a little quieter, at least.


	7. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Told almost entirely in the past, Hux starts to think of childhood memories on a job, probably not the best timing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw - child rape and child abuse. Also intersexism

On the isolated street on the outskirts of the city, a black Toyota Prius was sat on the corner with Hux inside who was impatiently tapping the steering wheel as he waited. He was having a morning where everything felt too loud so he didn't have any music on. He felt frustrated and restless - he had wished that he had a more active job today... But no, all he had to do was wait for the man to leave the house, get into his car and follow him for a while. He had his camera to take pictures of everything he did, he had to research the man before he killed him of course. He had heard that the man didn't have work for another three hours but Hux wanted to be there just in case. Which is why he was sat in his car, with a view of the man's front door at six in the morning with nothing but an Americano he picked up at Starbucks. He didn't mind, he liked his car. He bought it when he was nineteen, after driving a car given to him by Phasma for two years before that. He'd been gifted his first car when he finally got his licence after Phasma had been teaching him. The first car he owned was a dark blue Ford Focus - he knew other hitmen who'd have been given a Ferrari or a Lexus and he didn't care, not really. He knew _why_ Phasma hadn't wasted money on such an expensive item, and it was because she didn't need to. Hux hadn't been given so many gifts in his life that he expected anything from her, she knew she could win his allegiance with a handful of kind words and gestures. She bought him a meal, gave him a small apartment and an old car and he was hers. His Prius however was entirely his. He bought it for himself. It was quite old now, and he'd gotten it serviced and repaired more times than he could count. He'd been offered a trade in ever now and then but he didn't want to get rid of it, which Kylo thought was ridiculous but... The car was his. It felt more like a home than his apartment, and when he first bought it he slept in the thing for the first couple of nights.   
  
Right now however, the car just felt too small and he was having one of those days where his brain just wouldn't leave him alone. There wasn't a single thing that didn't remind of something awful that happened and That Familiar Voice in his mind was having a lot of fun with it. When he woke up, he had to deal with the aftermath of a nightmare, when he kissed Kylo's sleepy cheek goodbye he remembered the lips that felt like sandpaper against his neck, when he got changed he had to deal with his angular, masculine, scarred body which came with it's own set of horrible feelings... It just wasn't a good day overall, and whilst he was in the car all he could think about car rides with his father - if you could call them that. Usually, it was times when he'd been made to curl up in the boot whilst the man drove him somewhere so no one saw the boy in the car with him. Occasionally he'd be allowed to sit in the backseat, usually if there was a meeting at school. His father said he had to sit in the backseat because he couldn't trust him not to crease his uniform or not piss himself, that hadn't happened since he was six but his father had never let it go. The only other times he was in the car was on the way to a plastic surgeon consultation - which was one of the few medical appointments his father had to go to - and if he was taking him to meet a few of his disgusting friends. The time in particular that Hux was thinking about was the latter, and if he recalled when he was first told about the event he was actually quite excited. Not that that lasted too long.  
  
He was eleven years old and that morning he had woken up in the spare room with his father holding his small, curled up body. He remembered waking up feeling aching and defiled, resisting the urge to start sobbing when his father kissed his forehead with his rough lips and called him his special boy. He told him he was going to take him to a private event that evening, so that all of his friends could see how beautiful he was. His father let him use the nice big bathroom to bathe and was given a big fluffy towel to dry himself with, and afterwards he was allowed to stay in the spare bedroom to get changed and he was allowed downstairs in the dining room to have breakfast. He stared at his fried egg, bacon, toast and fresh orange juice terrified that it would disappear at any moment. He ate it so quickly he felt a little nauseated afterwards, especially because he was not used to eating such rich food. During the day, his father wasn't at home and he was terrified of doing anything wrong so even though he had full reign of the house he stayed in his room reading and playing on his computer. He thought that if he proved that he could be left alone, and not break anything or do anything wrong, his father might keep treating him like this. He didn't trust himself to be alone in any of the other rooms - like his father said: he couldn't be trusted, he ruined and broke everything, and he deserved to be locked away. At the time he thought he assumed his father was correct and that he had no reason to question it. That's why he found himself later on crying quietly in the boot because he had managed to upset his father anyway.   
  
When his father called him he almost ran down stairs in his hand-me-down, his t-shirt the cook had given him that was covered in constellations with sleeves that reached his elbows, and second-hand, greying Adidas trainers with peeling soles. He quickly looked in the mirror in the hallway and flattened his short ginger hair which had turned a little disheveled as it dried from his bath. When he skipped downstairs however and stood up straight in front of his father who looked him up and down... He was hoping for more special attention but it turn out his father's generosity was at an end.   
  
"Do you not have anything else to wear? You look like I found you on the street," The older man began, looking his son up and down. Hux instantly switched from looking up hopefully to looking at his feet, with disappointment and humiliation. His father knew full well he was wearing his best t-shirt and his jeans with the least amount of stains and frayed edges. He might not have matched his father's Armani suit and at the time, he blamed himself for it. Of course in the present, Hux was angry that his father had the audacity to say such a thing but at the time he thought the man had a point. How was he so stupid that he thought he actually looked fairly presentable? "Well, it's too late for you to change. Come, Armitage, we're going to be late," his father said, grabbing Hux by his bony elbow and pulling him along behind him. It wasn't particularly cruel by his father's standards and on any other day it wouldn't have upset the child so much. It was the contrast to how his father had cuddled him just this morning that really made the comment sting, but at least it softened the blow of what would happen next. He stood at the back of his father's car at the time, a Lexus, with his hands behind his back and his back straight in an attempt to avoid being hit for not standing properly. His father lifted up the boot cleared some space and took a step back. The boy was about to climb in himself but suddenly, his father grabbed him by the waist and shoved him in himself. His father left the boot open for a moment, lighting a cigarette and watching his son curled up into the corner with a thin smile.   
  
"I want you on your best behaviour in front of these dear friends of mine, are we clear, maggot?" His father began before inhaling from the Marlboro cigarette in his hand.   
  
"Yes, sir," his son whimpered from inside the boot. His father snorted at how weak his son sounded, almost choking on his smoke.   
  
"See what you made me do?" He coughed, as he cleared his throat. "If you hadn't have been so pathetic that wouldn't have happened. Now, try not to piss yourself or you'll have to stand in front of my friends in your soaking wet jeans explaining to all of these gentlemen how much of a baby you are. Do I make myself clear?"   
  
"Yes, sir."   
  
"What don't I want you to do?"   
  
"Piss myself, sir," the young boy said quietly.  
  
"Good boy, see? Not completely useless." His father was quiet as he finished his cigarette. "Of course, you did still not make an effort on your appearance and caused me to almost choke on my cigarette, so I think a punishment is in order for that," he paused thoughtfully. "Boy, give me your hand," he added holding out his own. The boy curled up into a tighter ball.   
  
"Father, I didn't mean to I-" The boy started whimpering.   
  
"Don't talk back to me maggot your your punishment will be even more severe," his father growled. Quickly, the child reached his thin arm out and his father, taking him by the wrist, took his cigarette and put it out just between his knuckles - smirking as his son whined. "Now, what do you say, runt?"   
  
"Thank you, sir," the child said, tears in the back of his throat.   
  
"For?"   
  
"Punishing me sir."   
  
"And?"   
  
"Allowing me touch your cigarette end, sir."   
  
"Why is that?"   
  
"Because even just your cigarette end is above me, sir." His father chuckled.   
  
"Good boy. Unfortunately, you did still squeal like a pig when you were being punished, you didn't follow my orders immediately  _and_ you spoke back to me so I will have to remember that when we get to the event, won't I?" His father slammed the boot shut, more than aware that his son despised the loud banging noise. That was the cause of his wincing as it happened, and as soon as his father started driving the boy started to sob silently. He'd never been taken to see his father's friends before and he was looking forward to it... Until now.   
  
Hux remembered the night vividly, starting from when they parked up after a twenty minute car ride in which he banged his head multiple times and he was incredibly nauseated, almost bringing up his delicious breakfast and lunch several times. He'd thought having two meals before the evening was too much but the servants had insisted it was fine. When his father opened up the boot soon after he parked, the man sighed, rolled his eyes and picked up the boy by the waist, not so gently planting him on the ground. He stumbled a little, dizzy from being locked in the car and from suddenly being on stationary ground. Suddenly he felt the familiar sensation of a blow to the bicep from his father's fist.   
  
"You're practically green maggot, even when you don't piss yourself you still manage to embarrass me somehow," the man said, voice filled with irritation. He shut the boot, roughly grabbed the boy by the wrist and pulled him towards the estate. The child found the building terrifying, but Hux wasn't sure if it really was or if hindsight and a childlike perspective had skewed his perception a little. He remembered a large house with dark grey stone, he thought the fence looked like the sort you found around a graveyard and jumping at every little sound (which usually resulted in cruel laughter from his father.) When he got to the large door his father knocked loudly, they were greeted by a butler immediately who took them to the downstairs drawing room. Hux hoped his father wouldn't noticed the mud that had been dragged in from his trainers. When they entered the drawing room, the nightmare started. Before they walked in his father stopped and turned to him. "Now, remember, maggot. Don't speak unless you're spoken too, stay next to me and don't you dare sully this gentleman's furniture by sitting on it. Do what I say as soon as I say it and I don't want you to look up unless you are spoken to directly, eyes on your feet at all times. Understood?"   
  
"Yes, sir," the child responded sullenly. Staring at his worn out trainers against the mahogany floorboards. This morning he was told his father that he was here to be shown off, it didn't feel like that was why he was here at all. At that point his father took his wrist and walked him into the drawing room.   
  
"Evening, gentlemen," the man said sitting in an armchair next to the window on the other side of the room so the five men around his father's age all got a very good look at the young boy. "You've all heard of my bastard Armitage, I believe?" He added with a bored hand gesture towards his son. He wasn't surprised that none of them acknowledged him directly; he rarely met his father's friends but when he did this tended to be how they acted. He was mostly focusing on the first part of his father's statement - 'you've all heard'. The boy smiled, his father had spoken of him to his friends. It wasn't until a little later when he heard them discussing him he'd discover what that meant, it would be then that the thought was more humiliating than pleasing.   
  
"Armitage," his father said suddenly, surprising his son. He had been daydreaming rather than focusing on his surroundings and as he hadn't hidden his shock at all, the rest of the room laughed cruelly. He knew he'd embarrassed his father, and he felt his hands tremor as he thought about how he would be punished. "See what I mean," his father began with a frustrated, disappointed tone. "The boy's spineless and pathetic but he is good for something's. Armitage," his father's tone suddenly turned into a bark. "Bend over my knee, boy." Gulping, the boy followed his orders, feeling his cheeks burn. He stood awkwardly next to his father's chair, wondering how he was to do as his father said with the chair's arm in the way but before he could think it over, his father dragged him over his knee by the scruff of the neck, not seeming to notice or car that the wooden arm was digging into the boy's hip. "He does try to be obedient, but he's such a stupid boy it can be difficult for him," his father added to his compatriots, talking about his son as if he was a horse or a dog. "Now Armitage," his father continued, tone a little loud so everyone in the room could here every word. "I'm going to rest my glass of scotch on your lower back and if you move, squirm, twitch, spasm or anything else and cause my drink to spill all over yourself I will punish you in front of all of all of my dear friends, is that what you want?"  
  
"No, sir," the boy responded, his voice strained from his father's thigh being in his stomach and his head being jammed under the right arm of the chair. It was then his father placed an ice cold glass at the bottom of his back and he gulped tensing his body and forcing it to remain still.   
  
"Good boy," his father said, stroking his hair. For a moment, his son smiled starting to feel loved again for a moment. It was then his father moved the ash tray to just next to his drink. The boy felt a twinge in his hand from where his father had burnt him earlier, he had a feeling it would be happening a lot tonight,  
  
"He is just as you say, Brendol," the man who was a foot away from him. "He's not particularly pretty but his soft, effeminate appearance and servile nature are enticing. It's too bad you've already broken him in, old boy," the man continued.  
  
"Yes, he is ever so eager to please as well. He does cry a lot which is amusing, but he's so eager to please. And, even unclothed sometimes it's hard to believe this thing is actually a boy," Brendol smirked. "Well, more or less a boy. The doctor's insist he is, despite certain abnormalities. All of this being said, he is delightful to defile."   
  
"You will have to let me have a go," the man said, causing the child's teeth to clench. His father wasn't going to let the others touch him... Was he? He wouldn't do that, he wouldn't do that, the boy told himself repeatedly.   
  
"Of course, I did offer to bring him along for tonight's entertainment after all! And you mustn't spoil him, feel free to be as rough as you like. He needs toughening up and he is due a few punishments for his actions earlier, aren't you boy?"   
  
"Yes, sir."   
  
"Tell all of these nice gentlemen what you did, Armitage," his father said sadistically.   
  
"I -"   
  
"No, not yet, stupid boy," his father interrupted, removing the glass of scotch of which a single drop hadn't been spilled, and his ash tray. Had Brendol not been very fond of the drink the child probably would have had it knocked over his back out of spite. His father picked him up and shoved him a few steps away from the chair. He stood awkwardly, aching and embarrassed staring at the glass table.   
  
"Now Armitage, why do you need punishing?"   
  
"For squealing like a pig when you burnt me with your cigarette, sir," his son mumbled, only to recieve a sharp smack to his lower back, causing him to stumble.   
  
"Louder," his father growled. "And try not to fall over, useless maggot."   
  
"For squealing like a pig when you burnt me with your cigarette, sir," the boy repeated, much louder. His ears reddened when he heard a few chuckles through out the room and mutterings, none of which he could make out but stung all the same.   
  
"And what else?" The man's tone filled with joy.   
  
"For speaking back to you sir."   
  
"Now, I've mentioned you to my dear friends Armitage, and I want to show them that pathetic, frail body of yours. Strip," his father ordered. His son froze, not quite believing what he was hearing, he started to stammer a response when he felt a hand hit the back of his head. "Now boy, or I'll hit you until you fall unconscious and show them your deformed body anyway." HIs father let out a sigh. "But I can be charitable, we'll start with just your t-shirt. Now, shirt off, boy." The young boy awkwardly and shaking took off his t-shirt, holding it awkwardly at his side before his father snatched it from him and hung it over the arm of his chair. "There we go, that wasn't so hard was it? However, I'm afraid for your insubordination, I'm going to have to punish you. I don't want to do this to you maggot, but you keep forcing my hand." His father took the young boy's right arm and put the cigarette out on his chest. And, as much as the child tried to keep quiet, he found himself whining again, which greatly amused everyone in the room. "See what I mean?" His father said shaking his head, pretending to be embarrassed but evidently enjoying himself. "It's like my child is a pig, or a dog perhaps. A mutt. His mother was of very low stock so it's no wonder I ended up with this runt. He's practically all bone! You'd think I didn't feed him-" You don't, the boy thought bitterly but not saying a word. "- and he always shakes like that, he looks like a shitting dog. Don't you, boy?"   
  
"Yes, sir." His father grabbed his right nipple and twisted to it, smiling as his son screamed.   
  
"Say it."   
  
"I- I look- like a shitting dog, sir," he responded tears running down his cheeks.   
  
"Stop crying," the man barked. "You're acting like a little bitch, Armitage." His son attempted to hold back his tears, but his whimpering sounds just made everyone smirk more. "Now, take your trousers and underwear off, maggot." The boy followed his orders and again, his father snatched his clothes and hung them over the arm of his chair. The child felt all of his skin heat up as the room stared at his small body, a few of the stares were hungry as well as mocking and both humiliated and terrified him.   
  
"What is it supposed to be exactly?" One of is father's friends jeered. "Can you really call that a cock?"   
  
"Oh I know," his father responded, his son daring a quick betrayed look in his direction as his tears fell down his burning cheeks. "The doctors are trying to make him look acceptable, you should have seen him when he was born. No wonder his mother didn't want the little, deformed runt." His father pulled him towards him. "What did I tell you about crying, maggot?" The man began, before grabbing his genitalia. "If you see here," he continued, addressing the rest of the room. "Right underneath his cock, he literally doesn't have any balls, just a scarred pit of flesh. Which explains a lot really. Of course the squealing, crying, pathetic little maggot doesn't have any balls." He smirked, staring directly at his son whilst the rest of the room muttered and snickered. "Now boy, come here, sit on my lap." The younger Hux's eyes suddenly widened a little in hope, he reached for his clothes but his father slapped his hand away. "No, you can sit on my lap but you must still be nude." The boy's breathing became laboured but being desperate for affection he climbed into his father's lap. "Good maggot," the man teased, causing his son to stiffen again. The warm, stubby hand stroking his cold, bare back however felt nice and caused the child to lean into the man's chest and snuggle his head into his neck. His father chuckled and wrapped his right arm around him whilst he drank from his scotch. "See? Pathetic little boy does have his redeeming features. He's so servile and I can beat and taunt him as much as I like, he still jumps into my knee or bends over at even a hint of a kind word." His father stopped to take a sip of his scotch. "I must say however, despite his deformities and frail, weak features he does have a certain beauty about him." The boy smiled when he heard 'beauty', and at that moment felt loved. Something he would feel disgusting about over a decade later. Although, the child was embarrassed, the response to receiving a compliment was much stronger but providing his father kept holding him he didn't really care what the man said. The familiar smell of scotch and cigarettes was comforting, it was funny how over a decade later those smells would haunt Hux.   
  
The child felt his father nudging him a moment after he'd received a refill of scotch. "Here, have some of this, Armitage," the man said shoving the drink in his face which his son gulped down, gagging and choking a little.   
  
"My god," the man a foot away from the younger Hux said. "He's guzzling the stuff down like a cheap whore drinking come." Upon hearing this, the boy gagged, and blushed, thus letting some scotch drip down his chin. When his father took the glass away from him he gagged further and threw up a little over himself. The man shoved him onto the floor in disgust.   
  
"You useless disgusting thing," his father growled. "Can't hold your liquor, and you throw up what I graciously give you." The man kicked the boy in the stomached before picking up his son by the hair. "You've been demoted to footstool, I don't want a mess like you on my lap." The child was dragged in front of the man as he rested his feet on his back. Younger Hux's head was spinning and he followed his father's orders. His stomach twisted as he felt the room moving. He continued to sway and shake, which just irritated his father more. "I don't like my feet being shaken, Armitage." After a minute or so his father gave up, took his feet off his back and barked at him to stand up. "I think it's time we let you entertain one of our dear friends, who wants to go first?"   
  
"Oh, may I, Brendol?" The man a foot away piped up before anyone had a chance, to Brendol's amusement.   
  
"Yes, of course! Feel free to treat the maggot however you like. The rules being don't cause any bruises on his face or neck, I don't need any more phone calls from the Academy, and don't fuck his arse. That belongs to me."  
  
"That sounds fair, the man said. "The usual room, yes?" He directed to someone across the room who must have nodded. "Come on, boy," the man added, kicking him so he got up and walked in front of him out of the room.   
  
All of the way to the hallway, up the stairs and to the large bedroom, Hux scurried quickly, tripping over his own feet and shaking. If he fell behind or stumbled, he was kicked by the older man behind him, who Hux had finally gotten a look at. He was a little older than his father, thinner, and balding. He had pale, grey eyes and hardly any lips. When the reached the bedroom, Hux was picked up in a bridal carry and laid gently on the bed. The man planted a gently kiss on his forehead, much to the confusion of the young boy and stood at the end of the bed. Hux still remembered the look of the room when he closed his eyes. There was a double four poster bed that looked like it had been carved from ivory with golden patterns. The duvet was large, soft, and a dark blue with golden floral patterns so as not to show any stains.   
  
"You are a pretty boy," the man said softly watching him. He leaned over the bed and ran his finger up the sole of the boy's foot causing him to shudder. "Tell me, do you masturbate?" Hux blushed heavily and gulped as he stared at the man. He'd heard about it at the Academy of course - mostly rumours. He did often feel the need to do it but... It hurt, a lot. And his father had caused him to feel repulsed by the idea of touching himself at all. The boy shook his head in response. "Not old enough yet?" He added with a smirk. "Do you know what it means?" Hux nodded. "Well, I will be doing so through our time together, so keep note. It might be helpful one day. For now however, it's a good thing because I will not allow you to touch yourself, even if you desire to. Do you understand?" The boy nodded again. "Good. You are here for my pleasure alone."The man, took off his grey and black suit, folded it gently and stood at the end of the bed, his legs apart and his hand wrapped around his cock. The man spent a long time forcing his cock down Hux's throat until he threw up on himself again. When he had, he came all over Hux's chest and pushed him back onto the bed. "Well," the older man gasped. "Your father was right slut, you are wonderful to defile, and a sniveling, disgusting thing," he said smirking over the boy who was crying on the bed covered in his own spit and vomit, as well as the older man's come. He walked out of the room and sent the next man in. They were all very similar, they insulted the boy, beat him, humiliated him and more. The only time the routine changed was on the last man. He was a large, muscular man who looked a little younger than the rest of them, he told the boy that it was his house he was staying in. When he walked in he had a towel under his arm which he placed on the floor, he told Hux to stand on it. However, the boy was shaky and aching thus didn't follow his orders too quickly which displeased him. The man grabbed the child by the hair, dragging him over to the towel. It was at that point that the man walked over to the table, where he had kept a bottle of what Hux recognised to be one of his father's favourite brands of whiskey.   
  
"Your father adores this stuff," the man said. "I wonder if you do?" He walked over to the boy and pushed the bottle against his lips. Knowing what happened last time, the boy's mouth was firmly kept shut. After what he'd been through today, he wasn't too scared of this man in a strange way. He couldn't possibly do anything worse than what he'd been through, could he? The man held his nose, so he was forced to open his mouth and poured the whiskey in to his mouth. After a few moments the man put it down and forced the boy's mouth shut so he had to swallow it all. He repeated this and since the boy's body was so small, it didn't take long for his stomach to swell. The child could barely stand so the man told him to get on his hands and knees. "Your father tells me you can't piss standing up without getting it all over yourself anyway, is that true?" Hux nodded. "Well, I'd be interested to see that." The boy, confused, squirmed, feel some urine drip out of him and down his legs. "I didn't say you could piss, did I?" The man growled, slapping the child's behind causing him to yelp. "I want you to hold it in," his father's friend continued, pressing into Hux's stomach. The alcohol had such an effect on him that he couldn't even try to stop himself from pissing all over his legs and the towel. Afterwards he fell on the towel in his own urine and couldn't move, only whining and crying as the man beat his buttocks. "Now, before I go," he began. "I think I've deserved to fuck that tight, red arse, don't you?"   
  
"M-my father said-"   
  
"Told the rest of them they couldn't fuck you but since this is my house he's given me permission to providing I don't fill you up with my come," he said, picking up the boy's hips. At least, Hux thought bitterly for a long time afterwards, the man didn't hurt me when I cried. After the owner of the house had left Hux, lying in his own blood, piss, and vomit, he curled up on the floor crying, unsure of what would happen next. To his surprise, his father came into the room and gently wrapped him up into a blanket, picking him up in a bridal carry. He opened his bleary eyes to see his father planting a rough kiss on his forehead and the boy relaxed instantly as he relaxed a little. His father carried him away from the room, out of the house and to the car. To Hux's surprise, he repeated "shhh, it's alright" and "you're a good boy" the entire way. He was laid down in the backseat, which made Hux smile a little. His father started the car and played the radio quietly, the gentle notes felt like they were singing the child to sleep. When they arrived home, his father bathed the drunk, tired, sore boy before putting him into his pajamas. The boy was confused but clung to his father anyway, desperate for the affection especially after what he'd been through. He started shaking again, when his father carried him to the spare room and he started to cry. He expected his father to use him again tonight but his father placed him on the bed and knelt down in front of him. Hux expected to be shouted at, but he wasn't.   
  
"Armitage, don't worry, you can rest tonight," Brendol said before kissing the boy's forehead. He tucked the boy in, gave him one last kiss and left the room. Of course, the next day things were back to normal. In the present, as he sat in the car outside the house waiting for the man to come out it was these memories that were floating around his mind. Interestingly, the things that disturbed him the most is that he saw his father's abusive behaviour as loving. How could I be that stupid? He thought bitterly. 


	8. Grasping for Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux's problems with eating start to resurface, along with the memories surrounding them. Results in him being comforted by Kylo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: rape, purging, eating disorder talk.   
> Lots of this was strongly influenced by rps with my boy kohoutek, so he deserves a lot of credit for this one!

Hux coughed, spluttered, and curled up on the cold kitchen tiles, his throat burning and his eyes watering. He clung to the side of the porcelain bath attempting to pull himself up but his hand slipped, and he fell forward, causing him to bang his elbow against the light blue tiles as he hit the ground.  
  
"Hux? Are you okay?" Kylo called from the living room after he heard a worrying clatter and bang.  
  
"Y-yeah, I-I'll be out in a second," Hux croaked in response, attempting to get up again but falling and smashing his head against the wall. The second bang caused Kylo to panic and burst into the bathroom, his anxiety heightening as he looked at the scene in front of him. The first thing was the sound of both taps running, the second was Hux curled up on the floor pale and shaking, the third was the smell of vomit. It was then that he figured out what had happened: the tell tale signs that Hux had purged.  
  
"Hux? Baby? You okay?" Kylo said softly, walking over to him and lowered himself onto his knees as he placed himself next to Hux's back.  
  
"I- I don't feel so good," Hux responded, voice shaking and weak. Kylo held out his long, pale fingers and gently took Hux's small, bony hand.  
  
"You're freezing. Come on, baby, I can help you up." Kylo repeated what he had done with customers and workers at the club a thousand times before. "Okay, wrap your arms around my neck," he started as he leaned close to Hux who followed his instructions. "And on three, lean up with me, okay? One, two, three-" Hux found himself having enough strength to get up with assistance and shakily found himself in front of Kylo as he helped the man out of the bathroom and into the living room. He helped him onto the sofa, and Hux instantly curled up on the cushions with his eyes almost closed. "Water, I'll get you some water," Kylo added, a little annoyed and trying not to show it. Hux knew of course, he could hear it in the other's clipped tone, and he could hear his father's words ringing in his ears... Words he had managed to convince himself Kylo must be feeling too. He remembered his father standing outside of the door after purging, back when he was only fourteen years old - he still wasn't used to it and it had taken him what felt like hours to get the food he'd just eaten back up. When he had finished he was dizzy, weak, and there was blood on his nails. He knew he was making grotesque, horrendous sounds but he figured he couldn't be heard by his father who must have been asleep by now. After he had washed his face, brushed his teeth and opened the door to see his father waiting for him with a sadistic smirk he had realised he was wrong.  
  
"Next time you vomit could you try and keep it down, boy," Brendol Hux said, his arms folded and looking down at his, scrawny teenage son. He shook his head and sighed exasperatedly.  
  
"I- I thought you'd be asleep," Hux said, as he found breathing suddenly becoming the most difficult thing as his nails dug into his palms.  
  
"I was working in my study which is just above your bathroom, as you _should know_. Stupid boy. I have a lot to do, and am planning to work through the night. Unfortunately here I am, because you are, throwing up the food I graciously give to you. Selfish, disgusting thing. What is it boy? Are you ill _again_? Such a feeble thing..." When Brendol had ended he'd reached out his hand roughly to press it against Hux's clammy forehead, the boy flinched and ducked but it just resulted in Brendol's hand tugging on his hair holding him in placed.  
  
"I- I'm not ill, I don't think," Hux said struggling to get away from his father. "I just- I can't- I won't- I don't want to eat," he ended looking down at the soft, thick carpet and his father's fine leather shoes.  
  
"You can't eat? Or you won't," Brendol snorted letting go of Hux and rolling his eyes as the boy stumbled. "So desperate to keep your skin and bones, are you?" He asked, taking a step closer to the child just to seem him back into the wall. "Well, I shan't stop you - waste away for all I care."  
  
"I know, that's why you barely feed me as it is." Hux muttered, avoiding looking at his father and regretting his lack of control instantly. The man grabbed the boy by the neck and slammed him against the wall behind him.  
  
"I barely allow you to eat because I do not need you becoming gluttonous or greedy. You need to be grateful for everything you're given," the man growled, his face inches away from Hux's.  
  
"I- I know, I'm- i'm sorry. I shouldn't- I should've been- I am grateful for everything you do for me, father. Throwing up all the food you gave me was selfish and awful. I'm sorry," the teenager stammered, shaking and struggling to get away from his father.  
  
"Yes. You are a selfish boy. You're lucky I am so forgiving," Brendol sighed, his grip not relenting. "Look at you, not only are you a feeble, little maggot - just skin and bone, you're also an ungrateful little beast."  
  
"You- you said you liked how small and delicate I was. You - you promised you thought I was beautiful. I want to make you happy," Hux whimpered pathetically, hating himself for being desperate for the approval of the monster in front of him.  
  
"I say a lot of things. But of course I do appreciate how tiny you are. So easily broken. I could break a rib with the slightest pressure," his father said, his hold on Hux loosening as his face contorted into a smirk.  
  
"Yes, sir. Tell me what you want from me father. Please, I'm just trying to be good enough - so I can make you happy," the child whined, as his father put the boy down and pulled him close to his large, whiskey smelling body. Hux stiffened as he felt the hot, breath in his ear that felt like insects on his skin.  
  
"I am happier with you like this. Tiny, frail. Stay thin for me, Armitage," Brendol said quietly, every word stabbing into Hux as he felt his body contorting and trying to be smaller.  
  
"I- I can do that, father. I'll stay like this so you can break me whenever you desire. You- you think my thin body is beautiful, don't you?" His son begged.  
  
"Yes, Armitage," His father crooned. "It's the only beautiful thing about your crippled, deformed body.” The man paused, and a sadistic grin filled his face. “Of course, you still need to be punished for interrupting my work. And I find myself having a strong desire to use your mouth."  
  
"B-but father, my throat really hurts and I think I'll just throw up-" Hux was interrupted by a hand back on his throat as he was slammed back against the wall.  
  
"What happened to wanting to make me happy, boy?" The man growled as his son started to shake. "Answer me, stop it. Stop crying and shaking like a shitting dog and answer me."  
  
"I- I'm sorry, I take it back. Please, please do what you want to me, father," Hux stammered, his eyes stinging. He was desperately trying to stop the tears fall down his face and to stop his limbs from quaking. He felt his skin burn and his father watched him with fascination as he tried to follow his impossible orders.  
  
"That's more like it, Armitage. My spineless, pathetic bastard boy," Brendol said. "Now," he took a step back, grabbed Hux's hair and pushed him towards his bedroom door. "I'm going to fuck your throat on your bed."  
  
"Y-yes, sir," Hux said as he straightened himself after his head hit the door. He clumsily opened the door and stumbled as quickly as he could to sit dutifully on his bed. His father was in front of him shortly touching himself through the fine material of his trousers.  
  
"Strip for me, I want to see that fragile body of yours, boy," Brendol grunted as he looked down at the child with dark sinister eyes. Hux, visibly terrified, pulled off his t-shirt. He winced as the cold hit him and tried to ignore how his father chuckled a little as he did so, when he pulled of his jeans and underwear he tried to ignore his father's judging eyes and smirk as he felt a strong urge to hide his body under his navy duvet cover. Suddenly he felt a hand stroke his cheekbone an he felt a slight glint of hope at the show of affection. "What did I do to deserve you? What awful, disgusting thing did I do to deserve to have some mutated, androgynous freak like you as my spawn?" Hux gulped as the words hit him, with tears falling down his cheeks, but the way his father softly stroked his face placated him a little. "What is that between your legs boy? Tell me."  
  
"It's- it's my cock, sir," Hux stammered, shame visible in every part of his body. Brendol laughed at his response as his hand started to stroke his slightly overgrown ginger hair, a slight form of affection which caused Hux's touch-starved body to almost melt towards the man.  
  
"You think _that's_ a cock? My, the doctor's are rather generous with that one aren't they? Would you like to see what an actual cock looks like, boy? Rather than that pathetic, scarred thing between your legs?" Brendol taunted as he undid his belt. "Well, maggot," he added, the grip on Hux's hair tightening suddenly. "Answer me."  
  
"Y-yes sir, I want you to show me," he whined reluctantly.  
  
"No," Brendol started tugging on the boy's hair harder, Hux let out a short sharp whine to his father's amusement. "Beg, beg me to do something so gracious as show you my cock and shove it into that small, effeminate mouth of yours."  
  
"Please sir, please let me see your cock sir, please show me what a real one looks like. Please let me taste you," Hux said quickly, desperate for the pain to stop and try to ignore how every word he said made him feel sick. As soon as he'd spoken, Brendol let go, and fulfilled his son's reluctant and forced wishes. He took his prick in his large, rough hand and took a step forward pressing it against Hux's cheek, who in return tried not to gag at the smell of his father.  
  
"See, boy? See what a deformity you are now boy?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Hux said quietly.  
  
"Open up, whore," Brendol commanded, Hux did as he was told and tried to ignore the blood that was still on his tongue. Brendol rested his cock on Hux's bottom lip. "Lick the tip, boy." The boy repressed a gag as he obliged his father who in response suddenly forced his cock in Hux's unsuspecting mouth. Brendol grabbed the boy's head and began to thrust violently into him, seeming to relish in every pained noise that came from his son and let out a moan when he felt Hux's tears hit him. The boy tried to pull away but Brendol just gripped onto him harder. "Stay still, boy. You're going to keep going until I finish. I don't care whether you pass out first, I'm going to fill your mouth with my seed either way. Maybe if you fall unconscious you won't whine and cry as much," the man groaned, breathing heavily between every word.   
  
Suddenly Hux felt a burning in the back of his throat as his stomach twisted. He started to panic, if he threw up right how his father would be furious. Suddenly he couldn't hold it in any more and his father quite clearly saw what was going to happen, as he pulled out of the boy's mouth, and shoved his head down, forcing him to throw up all down his bare chest. "You disgusting, depraved little cunt," Brendol groaned as he pulled the boy from the bed onto the floor. Brendol crouched over him, with his cock pointed at his vomit covered chin, neck and chest. His hand squeezed and quickly thrust against his cock as he continued. "What can you do right, exactly? The only thing you're good for is a hole to fuck and you can't even do that can you? Not even a decent whore. The great Brendol Hux's progeny, lying on the floor covered in his own vomit. A pathetic little runt, a mutt, your whore mother must be the reason you're like this. She cried when I fucked her too-" Suddenly Brendol let out a final moan of pleasure as his semen exploded from is cock and fell over the boy's chest and neck. After he'd caught his breath, he stood up, adjusted himself and went to leave the room.  
  
"You're- you're leaving?" Hux whined weakly, unable to sit up as he laid on his floor disgusted at himself with the smell of his father and his vomit overpowering him.  
  
"You think a disgusting, filthy little runt like you is worthy of being held by me? You think I'd kiss and love someone like _you_? You deformed, repulsive little freak," Brendol snarled before spitting on the boy's chest and kicking him in the torso. "And I expect this room and you to be clean when I check on you in the morning. Well, as clean as someone like you _can_ be." The man turned around and slammed the door, causing Hux to flinch and recoil on the floor. Back in the present, he mirrored this action in his own apartment on his own sofa. At least this time the cold leather felt more comforting than the rough, hard floors. He was shaking as Kylo brought him a glass of water with a sympathetic smile.  
  
"I'm sorry," Hux croaked as he sat up and a tremor in his hands causing him to spill the water before he sipped slowly.  
  
"For what?" Kylo asked, gently stroking his boyfriend's hair and pushing it out of his eyes.  
  
"I threw up the food you made me. That was- that was really selfish, I'm sorry," Hux said, avoiding looking at him as his eyes stung. Kylo opened his mouth to speak, closed it and raised his eyebrows in shock. Hux couldn't be serious, could he?  
  
"Hux I'm not- I don't care about that," Kylo began, resisting the urge to laugh incredulously. "Babe, I do not care about- I can't- of course that's fine. I'm more worried about the fact you purged, Hux." He said, pushing himself closer to his love, wrapping his arm around his cold shoulders. Hux placed the half empty glass on the table and curled up, Kylo wrapped his arms around the skinny man and held him close to his chest. He stroked Hux's back comfortingly as he kissed the top of his love's head. "Do you think you're going to do it again?"  
  
"I don't want to," Hux mumbled, still feeling dizzy. "I feel awful, I don't think I will."  
  
"Is this the first time since-" Hux interrupted him as he nodded into Kylo's chest. "Can you tell me why?"  
  
"I... I don't know, I just-" Hux paused and furrowed his eyebrows. "I want to take out my stomach and empty it of... Everything. I wanted to scrape out my insides and be empty. I didn't want- it was like I could feel the food making me bigger and- I'm sorry."  
  
"I think I understand," Kylo said stroking Hux's hair. "Baby, it's okay. You have an illness, it's not your fault."  
  
"But I'm being selfish-"  
  
"No," Kylo interrupted, his body stiffening. "Hux, you're not being selfish. You couldn't help it. _You have an illness_ , babe," he finished.  
  
"But I failed and-"  
  
"If I had a drink tomorrow, just one drink, regretted it and then continued trying not to touch a drop... Would I have failed?"  
  
"I- No. That's different-"  
  
"No, it's not."  
  
"I still feel selfish-"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because you made me something to eat. You _actually_ did the shopping and bought food, then you cooked for me. And I selfishly stuck my fingers down my throat and forced myself to throw up," Hux said, as tears ran down his burning cheeks.  
  
"Hux, do you want me to tell you how this is from my perspective?" Kylo said softly, kissing the top of Hux's head and closing his eyes, inhaling the smell of his soft, bright hair. He felt his love nod as his hair tickled Kylo's nose and chin. "You tried really hard to eat a whole meal, you tried not to purge like you do every time - and you've done really well - but this time you slipped up. And it's fine. It's not a pattern or a habit, you haven't disappointed me. I'm really proud of you, baby." Hux gulped and curled up a little tighter, feeling himself shake as he started to cry harder. Kylo stroked his back, repeating a mantra of 'it's okay' and 'let it out'. The both of them stayed there for a little while, curled up and incredibly pleased with the other for two very different reasons.


	9. Distortion & Lingering Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux finds it difficult to see his eating disorder recovery as a positive thing with his distorted body image. Thankfully he has his recovery cat and a supportive boyfriend to help him through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: eating disorder talk and childhood abuse.

Hux curled up on his bed with his duvet pulled up to his chin, a pillow against his torso with his arms wrapped around it so he didn't have to touch the skin that repulsed him so much. It wasn't long before the fat ginger cat, clearly affronted at being ignored, came bounding into the room and jumped onto his bed clamouring to the head of the bed and giving a loud 'meow'.   
  
“Hi Millie,” Hux said a little sadly, reaching a hand out to scratch behind her ears. She kneaded against the bedding and purred in response, she began to nuzzle Hux's head, causing him to chuckle and cough a little. He moved the pillow, and allowed her to curl up against his stomach smiling as she continued to purr contentedly. “You don't care that my belly is a little bigger now do you, Mils?” He assumed not, given how she was happily pressed against it. If anything she seemed to prefer it, before she couldn't jump on him without him flinching and now she could even do as much as comfortably curl up again sensitive areas like his stomach. Hux smiled and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth and affection, it felt a little pathetic to him but... The cat had been the first creature to look at him with affection. He remembered when he first found her, behind the apartment complex in his first few months of living here. She was a skinny, abandoned little kitten rummaging through the bins – feeling some kind of affinity with her, he took her in. Now she was a fat, content adult cat, it felt appropriate that Hux started putting on weight too. He just wish he could feel as good about it as she did, about herself and him.   
  
“Hux? I'm home,” Kylo called into the flat with a smile, it was strange... _Home_. Did he have a right to call it that? He wondered as he went to the kitchen with his two shopping bags filled with food and decided that since he did most of the shopping _and_ cooking he probably did. He placed the bags on the counter and turned around giving a quick look around the flat with a frown. “Hux?” He called again, he was sure the other was home. A tell-tale 'meow' from the bedroom which came with a fat ginger cat bounding through the door to Kylo's feet gave him a clue. “Hiya Millie,” he said softly as the feline rubbed her body against his dark jeans, leaving ginger hairs all over them. She began sauntering back over to the bedroom - in circles to make sure that Kylo was following her. When he opened the door, and Millicent jumped on the bed looking up at him it became immediately clear what she was trying to alert him to. “You okay, babe?” Kylo said, perching on the end of their bed with a sad smile, reaching out to stroke Hux's bright, soft hair.   
  
“Not really,” he mumbled, curling up in a tighter ball trying to avoid the concerned brown eyes looking down at him.   
  
“Do you want to talk about it?”   
  
“No.”  
  
“Do you want to get out of bed?”   
  
“No.”   
  
“Have you gotten out of bed today?”  
  
“No,” Hux admitted being very aware of the space he was taking up and wishing he was smaller. So much smaller. So small he didn't take up any space at all. “How late is it?” He added with a yawn, trying not to focus on the darkening sky out of his window.   
  
“About 5pm,” Kylo said with a worried edge to his voice. “Baby,” he began, his hand falling to Hux's cheekbones. “I really think you should get up.”   
  
“I- I can't,” he admitted, squirming uncomfortably.   
  
“Can you tell me why?”   
  
“I don't want you to see me. I look disgusting,” Hux admitted, terrified he sounded like a whining child. Kylo gave a sad smile, taking a deep breath not saying the first thing that came to mind at that comment.   
  
“Babe, you're not disgusting,” he began, nudging Millicent off of the bed – much to her dismay – and laying on the bed next to him, propping himself up on his elbow.   
  
“I'm huge, fat and-”   
  
“No,” Kylo said suddenly, gently pulling the duvet away from his boyfriend, revealing his arms and shoulders at first. He started planting kisses at the top of Hux's neck, running them down his shoulder, biscep, forearm, wrist and eventually his knuckles. “You're beautiful. Your skin is brighter and rosier, your arms and belly are more filled out, healthier.” He gently pulled the duvet down to Hux's waist and gently pushed him onto his back.   
  
“Kylo-” he whined, but not putting up any resistance. In response the other ran a trail of kisses down the man's collar bones, chest, and all the way down to his navel. He gently stroked the other's skin with his finger tips, smiling when he heard Hux's soft moans.   
  
“Your body is beautiful, baby, every part of it,” Kylo whispered, looking up at him from his waist. “But now, I can do this-” he ran his fingers across Hux's ribcage, softly, causing the other to wriggle a little happily. “And it doesn't hurt, does it?”   
  
“No- it- it feels nice-”   
  
“And I can do this-” Kylo pushed himself up, straddling Hux's waist and bent forwards, stopping when his lips were an inch away from the other's with his dark hair, calling to shield both of their faces. “-Without worrying whether I'm about to break something. You're not huge, or disgusting, you're just healthier, and happier. That's what makes you look so beautiful – your health and happiness.”   
  
“You- you didn't think I was beautiful before?” Hux said, stammering a little, a sudden glint of fear present in his bright eyes that were just beginning to relax.   
  
“Of course I did,” Kylo crooned, his head tilting as he kissed the other's neck. “I've always thought you're the most gorgeous person I've ever met. But you're healthier, and happier, which makes me happy.”   
  
“But if I keep getting bigger-”   
  
“You will still-” Kylo began, interruption as he lowered himself down Hux's torso, leaving a trail of kisses down his collarbones. “-always be my gorgeous-” Kylo's lips pressed against the space between his pectorals delicately. “- sweetheart,” he ended, his path of affection ending at the waistband of Hux's pyjama bottoms. In response, he wriggled and twitched pleasantly – actually managing to smile up at the other. “Baby, to me _every_ single inch of your body is beautiful. I love it so much because it's _yours_.”   
  
“Even -”  
  
“Yes,” Kylo interrupted with a wry smile.   
  
“You don't know what I was going to say,” Hux interjected, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He tried to ignore the fact that his stomach hard started to fold a little... It never used to do that.   
  
“It doesn't matter, my answer is still the same,” his boyfriend said, planting another kiss on Hux's forehead. Kylo pushed himself off of Hux and perched on the edge of their bed, smiling down at his love and going back to stroking his hair. “Now, I'm going to draw you a nice, hot, bath-”   
  
“I can't-”   
  
“A bubble bath of course,” Kylo interrupted with a grin. “That way you can't see your body at all. And, whilst you're in there I'm going to make us both some dinner.” Before he got up he pressed his lips into Hux's forehead, and gently stroked his cheekbone. “Now, try and get out of bed, my love.”   
  
*****

  
Hux closed his eyes and let the water flow around him, feeling the heat soothe his aching limbs. The tight swelling in his knees, relaxing taking slow, deep breaths, and inhaling the smell of soap and bubble-bath. He heard the distant noise of cluttering in the kitchen, regretting not asking Kylo to bring his laptop in so he could play some music but not feeling like he could ask him now. He felt his mood lift and in theory everything was perfect, except he could feel his mind wandering as much as he tried to stop it. Lying in the dark at twelve years old, tugging at his stomach, wishing there were muscles where there was skin and bones. At the same time, loving how tiny he was and wishing he could be smaller. He remembered around that time, maybe a year before? Two years before? A year after? He wasn't sure... Ah, of course, he thought. He was in his new room so he must have been around thirteen. He'd been putting on weight when he hit puberty. It can't have been more than a couple of pounds but his father had noticed, because of course he did. He couldn't quite remembered when it happened and the memory was fractured he could just recall fragments.   
  
He recalled his father coming into his room at night, the smell of whiskey and footsteps being present outside of the door before the man was. Brendol opened his door quietly, his son pretending to be asleep like he always did as he laid on his side, curled up slightly his bright eyes screwed shut. He felt his bed sink as the man sat on it, the boy felt a hand on his arm shaking him not-so-gently with a growling: “Boy, I know you're awake”. Hux froze, normally his father at least started with a façade of affection. The child open his eyes and timidly turned around, sitting up in front of the large man with sadistic eyes as his chest started to heave. His father was angry, he could see it in his narrowed eyes, furrowed brow and slight frown.   
  
“Strip,” Brendol said slowly, almost sounding bored. Hux recognised the look instantly, something awful had happened to the man and he needed to take it out on someone he considered beneath them. His son would be that person tonight, as he usually was. “Now,” the man added when Hux hesitated. The child grabbed his pyjama shirt, pulling it over his head and tossed it aside when he pushed the duvet away his father stopped. “Hold on,” the man began with a smirk and a curious sideways look. “Stand up, boy,” he said, his gaze still locked onto the pale, skinny boy who shivered when the night breeze hit him. Hux, confused but anxious, turned round and pushed himself off of his bed, standing to attention in front of his father as the man's eyes tore apart every part of the boy's body. “You've put on weight.”   
  
“I- I hadn't noticed.” Hux looked down with his cheeks burning. He had noticed, his stomach was a little softer, and not as tight any more. He used to dream of a toned muscular stature, the kind his father wouldn't be able to mock or hurt - but now he wanted his tiny frame back. His small, genderless, slight frame.   
  
“What? You hadn't noticed that gut you're growing, Armitage?” Brendol actually appeared to be a little cheered up but his tone suggested the opposite. He reached out and started to tug at the boy's stomach, grinning as the boy whined and winced. “You're turning into quite the little piglet aren't you?” The child didn't reply, he stared at the closed curtains behind his father's head and tried to focus on the way the cracks of moonlight between the dark fabric. Anything but his father's smirk and the stale cigarettes clinging to his clothes, or the whiskey on his breath. “Answer me boy,” Brendol growled, tugging harder at his son's stomach.   
  
“Y-yes, sir,” Hux grumbled, his body blushing and betraying his embarrassment.   
  
“Yes. A fat, deformed weakling. It's not going to be nearly as fun fucking you now. I miss your beautiful, slight frame,” Brendol continued, stifling a laugh when Hux suppressed a cry, just letting out a quiet, tear-filled, croaking sound. “How could this happen I wonder, have I been feeding you too much? Maybe we need to cut your meals more-”  
  
“N-no, please-” Hux blurted out to both his and his father's surprise.   
  
“Well, of course you don't think I should. Gluttonous, little pig,” Brendol snarled, cruelly pinching at the boy's hips. “I wonder, perhaps I'm giving myself the blame too quickly.” The man narrowed his eyes as a flash of anger hit his eyes. “You've been stealing from the kitchens haven't you?” Hux opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again, unsure of how to respond. The cook she had sometimes brought him up food, but she'd left over a year ago. That couldn't be it. He occasionally crept down in the middle of the night for a piece of bread but... Oh god, Hux thought as his face visibly fell. “I knew it. You little thief, not satisfied with what I give you? Such an ungrateful thing, A greedy, selfish pig who steals from his own father, who so graciously feeds and clothes him.” The boy's gaze hit the floor as he felt his eyes redden as he desperately tried to suppress the tears that wanted to fall down his face. “Well, out with it boy,” his father snapped, not needing to hit his son to make him wince. “Have you been stealing from me? Don't you dare lie to me.”   
  
“I- Not- not really-” Hux began, only to be interrupted by his father standing up suddenly and dwarfing the boy. Brendol grabbed the boy by his hair and shoved him back onto the bed.   
  
“Don't lie to me boy. You've been stealing from me, and now you're forcing me to administer your punishment. Greedy, filthy, little maggot,” his father said staring at the terrified, boy who stared up at the man with wide fearful eyes and a tear-stained face. In the present, Hux found himself curled up on his side in the warm bath, replicating how he laid on his bed over a decade ago. His father's words rang in his head his hand ran down to his stomach. His not quite as tight as it used to be, a little soft, it didn't hurt any more – not until he pinched down a little harder, but it was so... Unseemly. He knew Kylo said he'd think he was beautiful no matter what but what if he didn't? What if his father was right?


End file.
